It Starts with a Dance
by lady-kyo
Summary: H.G. had a dance lesson with SS back in her 4th year, when she missed the Gryffindor practice. What does that mean after moldy Voldie's been defeated, RW's gone to the US with HP and GW, and HG is a professor at Hogwart's with the big Black Bat?
1. Whence It All Began

**It Starts With A Dance**

**disclaimer: nope, don't own Harry Potter, don't make any money off of the series, and even if I did, would I tell you?**

**Chapter 1: Whence It All Began. . .**

**back in the Golden Trio's 4th year**

"But Hermione, you can study later. We've got to get down to the bloody practice now, or McGonagall will have your head, favorite student or not," Ron wheedled his best friend and secret crush to get her away from the library and down to the ballroom where they were supposed to be practicing for the Yule Ball they would be attending along with the students of Durmstrang and Beaubatons wizarding academies.

"Harry, will you please explain to Ronald that I do have some experience on the dance floor and I need to study more than I need to dance. Besides, I could just stand on my date's feet if I really perform so badly," Hermione said coldly, trying to concentrate on her books.

"Hermione, he has a point. If you don't show up, McGonagall would go after us, too; you wouldn't want to subject us to that, would you?" Harry cajoled, but Hermione wouldn't budge.

"Not the best way to put it to me, mate. Being your best friend got me petrified in my second year, remember? Consider this dancing lesson to be part of your apology and reparation," Hermione said dismissively.

Harry and Ron shared a look before they left their bushy-haired best friend so they wouldn't be _too_ late for the dancing lesson. Once they left, Hermione settled down to study and it wasn't until hours had passed that she finally slammed her books shut and looked around to see what time it was. Her stomach told her she'd missed supper, but she booked it to McGonagall's office to see how she could make up the missed lesson.

When she finally arrived in the Assistant Headmistress's office, Hermione was breathing hard and panting. She knocked and the door flew open.

"Miss Granger, I assume you have an excuse for not attending the dancing lesson I held earlier?" Minerva McGonagall's voice boomed at Hermione; Minerva's voice never boomed unless she was truly annoyed. "I think you take your position as favored student for granted. You made me look a fool, Miss Granger. What have you to say for yourself."

Hermione braced herself as she spoke. "I'm sorry, Ma'am; I was studying and lost track of time."

Minerva's hand cracked down on her desk. "Do not make the mistake of lying to me and assuming I will believe it, Hermione! Harry and Ron spent the better part of an hour trying to wrest you from the library and were late themselves. And before you blame them, I pressed the information from them. Mr. Weasley especially tried to save you from my wrath."

Hermione squirmed under her favorite professor's glare. "I assume you won't allow me to use my time-turner to go back and not miss the lesson?"

"No. Get your arse down to the ballroom and take your lesson with whichever House is down there now. I'll speak with you later," McGonagall said, pointing to the door. Hermione ran out and Minerva turned to a figure emerging from the shadows. "It is done, Albus. Are you happy now, even though your plan won't take hold for years?"

"Minerva, knowing that this has taken hold will comfort me as I take my final actions," Albus Dumbledore said, leaning down to hold his lover. "They will help you in the times to come."

Hermione ran from McGonagall's office down to the grand ballroom, where she heard many voices and feet. Music was blaring and Hermione grimaced before she plastered a smile on her face and strode into the room, thoroughly expecting Hufflepuffs or Ravenclaws. What met her gaze was neither.

"Professor Snape," Hermione said, her heart falling to her feet. One of the other heads of House she could have charmed, but not the heartless Severus Snape.

"Ah, yes, Granger. McGonagall told me to expect you. Find a partner," he growled at her, barely sparing her a glance as he counted paces for his students. Hermione had never seen him as she did then, hair tied back with a leather strap, outer robes removed in deference to the overheated room. His trousers and shirt were black as his typical robes, yet fitted to his form. Hermione swallowed the heat rising in her throat as she looked around to find someone to dance with.

As the room was full of Slytherins, and she was a Gryffindor, Hermione knew she'd have no luck. Add to that the fact that she was muggle-born, and she was completely out of luck. Dancing couples gave Hermione broad way, until Draco Malfoy danced up with the human slug, Pansy Parkinson.

"Granger, not even your own House would dance with you? How did you manage to get a date, anyway he must be deaf, dumb, and blind. Not to mention without feeling in his feet," Draco sneered at Hermione, who felt her throat tighten and her face heat in embarrassment.

Snape trotted over and grabbed Hermione's upper arms from behind.

"You needn't speak like that to someone who doesn't have to charm her dancing shoes, Draco. Continue this dance, then return to your room. Both of you," Snape said to Draco and Pansy, who were flabbergasted into silence.

"Th thank you, Professor," Hermione whispered, still in Snape's grasp. "I'll leave and speak with Professor McGonagall about this. I think I'd rather have detention than this."

"Nonsense. We can't have Viktor disappointed, can we?" Snape said, twirling Hermione around and taking her into his arms for a waltz.

"You know Viktor asked me to the dance?" Hermione said, letting Snape lead her around the floor.

"Of course, Granger. It is my duty to know these things. You're graceful, for a muggle," Snape said, counting the beat for her only.

Hermione glared at him and lost the beat as she opened her mouth to berate him when he silenced her with a look.

"Forgive me. For now, I am your dancing partner, and I must ask you to stand on my feet. Surely your father did this for you when he was first teaching you to dance?" Snape said, waiting a moment for Hermione to position herself.

As a result of the new position, Hermione was pressed more firmly against the potions master, more aware of his body in the clothing she'd noticed before. What she hadn't noticed was that the tightly fitted clothing was silk, black silk that Hermione stroked without thought. Snape froze for a moment, then relaxed as he held her in the dance. Hermione blushed and realized what she'd been doing. She stopped and instead placed her hands more firmly in a less area.

The song finished and Snape left Hermione by the side of the room while he escorted Draco and Pansy back to their House. Hermione removed her outer robes and rearranged her clothing, a stretchy crimson top and knee-length black skirt. She bent over to sort her robes and books out when her shoulder was tapped. Hermione whipped around, wand at the ready, to find Blaise Zabini standing before her. All of his dark-haired, black-haired glory, garbed in blue and black and staring down at her.

"May I have this dance?" he said, holding his hand out to her. Hermione put her hand in his and let him lead her out onto the dance floor. A faster tune came up and Blaise held Hermione closer than she preferred.

"Thank you, but I find I'm a wee bit warm. Perhaps you could relax your hold on me?" Hermione suggested, alarmed at his closeness and looking around for someone to help her.

Zabini pulled Hermione even closer, against her wishes, putting his lips against her ear. "I can see and feel why Potter and Weasley keep you around, Granger. Perhaps you can share with me as well?"

Disgusted, Hermione pushed against Zabini harder, trying to get away from him when a cool hand was placed around her waist while another pushed Zabini away as if he were no more than a gnat.

"Go to your room, Zabini. I'll deal with you tomorrow," Snape hissed. Zabini ran from the room while Hermione shook in her fright.

"I he wanted to dance I didn't and Ron and Harry" Hermione said, her teeth chattering. Snape looked at her and tugged her in close for a hug, something neither one was expecting. Hermione felt him react to her but she was oddly comforted by it.

"Hush, Hermione. Go back to your rooms and let me know if Zabini tries anything else. I'll speak to McGonagall," Snape said in a tired voice. He patted her back awkwardly.

"But the lesson"

"You are graceful enough that any boy or man should be lucky to have you grace him with your company. Now off to bed, before Zabini sneaks out to get you," Snape said in a husky voice. She was his student; he wasn't supposed to feel this way about a student. Protective, seduced neither was appropriate.

Hermione stiffened. "D'you think Zabini would try that?"

She grasped Snape even harder, which made his situation . . . harder. . . to say the least. "I'll walk you to your common room, and leave you in the capable care of Masters Potter and Weasley."

Hermione nodded and let Snape lead her away from the ballroom, her small hand in his larger one. They walked in silence, taking the long way around so as not to be chanced upon by anyone who would use it against them.

Upon arriving at the Fat Lady's portrait, Snape and Hermione stood silently for a long minute, thinking and reflecting. Hermione spoke first.

"Thank you, Professor," Hermione said, looking up at her potions professor in a new light.

"You're welcome. And thanks to you too, as well, Hermione, for letting me share a dance with you, and rescue you from Zabini. After one has been the enemy for so long, one forgets what it is like to be the hero," Snape said, impulsively pressing a kiss onto the back of Hermione's hand before he left he stunned.

"Chivalry isn't dead, then," Hermione said before she spoke the password and let herself into the common room.

That was five years ago. Hermione was once again standing outside the Gryffindor common room, but this time she was all alone, having said good-bye to her best friends just hours ago, outside on the Hogwart's grounds.

"Hermione, I can't let Harry go off on his own," Ron had said, stroking Hermione's wavy hair.

"But Ginny is going, too. They're married can't that be enough? Why must you leave as well?" Hermione had cried, raging inside at the irony. Harry had defeated Voldemort, married Ginny, but now he was leaving for a while and was taking not only Hermione's best girlfriend but her lover as well. She didn't even have her other favorite companion, Neville, who was dead as a casualty of war.

Ginny looked to Hermione from Harry and spoke softly. "Hermione, you can come, too. You said no."

"I can't understand why Harry needs to leave," Hermione said, pulling away from Ron.

"I need some time to heal, Hermione. We all do. We've lost so many; a change of scenery is what we all need. We don't need to spend our time here, especially with him," Harry said, tightening his grip on his wife.

"Minerva, Hagrid and Severus all need some help. When Minerva offered the positions to Tonks and me, we couldn't turn them down," Hermione said, ignoring Harry's jibe at their former potions master. "Besides, it is not his fault Albus died, Harry."

Without another word, Hermione held Ginny and apparated away. Ron sighed and hung his head.

"Hermione, to bring that up that isn't you. Harry is under a lot of stress, and Ginny is busy trying to help him. They need me for protection, especially when Ginny gives birth. It would be better if you were to come with us," Ron tried once more, but Hermione shook her head.

"Good-bye, Ron," Hermione said, her hands at her sides.

"Later, Hermione," Ron said, apparating away and leaving Hermione all alone.

"No, Ron; good-bye."


	2. Settling In

**It Starts With A Dance**

**disclaimer: nope, don't own Harry Potter, don't make any money off of the series, and even if I did, would I tell you?**

**Chapter 2: Settling In**

Hermione was still standing outside the Gryffindor common room when the Fat Lady harrumphed at her.

"I remember the last time you stood here with that look on your face, Professor Granger. You were one of my charges back then, dear girl. But now we're in your charge," the Fat Lady smiled at Hermione, who spoke the password and entered quietly.

"And you were just as heartbroken."

Hermione had a sleepless night in her old House. Her rooms weren't ready yet, and she was just as glad to be in a somewhat familiar room. The students weren't back yet, as Headmistress McGonagall had slightly postponed the start of the school year in deference to all those that had died in the final battle. It was a Thursday night, and the students would be trickling in Saturday night and Sunday, save the first years, who would all be arriving together Sunday evening in time for the sorting and the opening feast.

Around four o'clock in the morning, Hermione gave up on sleep and decided to roam the castle. She grabbed her cloak in a fit of humor and decided to do something she'd always wanted to do as a student: lurk around the castle, pretending to be a big, black bat, like her sometime favorite professor.

Hermione drifted from corridor to corridor, chatting with the ghosts as she played. She had just turned eighteen, so she felt she could afford to be a little silly in the dark. She wasn't paying attention to her surroundings, and soon she ended up in a dark corridor without any torches. She stopped flapping her 'wings' and looked around.

"Damn," Hermione muttered to herself, trying to orient herself to the unfamiliar surroundings. She was completely blind in the utter darkness, and she couldn't even sense any of the ghosts nearby to help her.

"If I knew that playing big bad Severus would have landed me here I wouldn't have done it," Hermione said, turning around in the darkness. She'd left her wand in her room, and was therefore defenseless. "Some Auror I am."

"Some woman you grew up to be," a voice breathed in her ear. Arms came around Hermione's waist as music began to play. "I only ever got one dance with you, Granger."

"Severus?" Hermione breathed, turning in the tightening embrace. "You?! How'd you get here?!"

The ghost of Neville Longbottom smiled at Hermione, releasing his tenuous grip on her waist. He shimmered, closed his eyes, and was once again almost alive.

"Got you, Hermione," Neville laughed, his chuckles reverberating down the hallway. "I can't believe you actually thought I was Snape. And when did you start calling him 'Severus' anyways?"

"Very funny, Shimmer-boy. Seriously, how did you end up here?" Hermione asked, not caring that she was standing in a dark corridor illuminated only by the shine of her friend's ghostly form. "Actually, how did any of these ghosts end up here?"

Neville shook his head. "I don't know about any of the other ghosts, Hermione, but all I remember is being struck with a spell and Harry and Ginny yelling. After that, I woke up floating in the Great Hall with Minerva McGonagall screeching for me to get my ghostly form down and prepare some lesson plans."

"Excuse me? Lesson plans?"

"Yes. Professor Sprout was mortally wounded in the last attack on the school, and has since died quite painfully."

"So why isn't the ghost of Professor Sprout teaching, like some of the other professors are?" Hermione asked, triumphant yet a little depressed.

"After all those years helping me study and seeing my grades you expect me to have all the answers now?" Neville quirked an eyebrow at his friend.

"You have a point. Care to light my way back to my room, Professor Longbottom?"

Neville presented Hermione with an arm, but had expended too much of himself for her to be able to actually hold his arm. Neville gave her a regretful smile and instead floated before her, shedding light and ensuring she got back to their former common room safely.

Before Hermione mounted the stairs to her room, Neville asked her a question.

"When I approached you like that, why did you assume I was Snape, Hermione?"

Neville shimmered out of the room and Hermione returned to her bed.

"I think the more important question would be, why was I so excited at the prospect?"


	3. Thank Merlin its Friday NOT

**It Starts With A Dance**

**disclaimer: nope, don't own Harry Potter, don't make any money off of the series, and even if I did, would I tell you?**

**Chapter 3: Thank Merlin It's Friday. . . Not**

Hermione woke up sore Friday morning. Her midnight traipsing around the castle had obviously had an effect on her sleep, and her back and knees were screaming at her, a result of her Auror training and battle experience. Her conversation with Neville had unnerved her, though: who else would be around in ghostly form, friends or foes?

Hermione trudged to a shower and bathed in a hot stream that left her red as a lobster before she hopped out and toweled herself off briskly. She was putting her underclothes on when Neville's head popped into her room.

"Hey, 'Mion hey, Hermione," Neville teased, taking in her semi-naked form and loitering.

"Neville, out. You shouldn't use your 'condition' for evil, you lech," Hermione said, throwing a sock at him.

Neville withdrew from her room and waited by her door. "I'm here to escort you to breakfast. Which you've almost missed, Miss," he yelled through the door.

Hermione slipped her stockings on and secured them in a plain garter belt before stepping into a knee-length black skirt; a camel-coloured cashmere sweater and high-heeled loafers completed the outfit. Hermione grabbed her robes from a hanger near her door and let herself through the door, shutting it tight behind her. She'd be coming back soon to move her things to her faculty quarters, anyways.

"There, alright?" Hermione said, doing a little twirl for Neville. "Let's go."

"Ladies first," Neville bowed as Hermione walked ahead of him. "What class are you teaching, exactly?"

"Well, between the two of us, I believe Tonks and I are splitting the Transfiguration and Defense Against the Dark Arts. But I'll find out exactly how everything is working out at breakfast. I bet all the girls will want extra help in Herbology from the very beginning."

Neville laughed. "I doubt it. My most upper-level students will remember me from our time together at Hogwart's."

Hermione groaned. "Me, too. I wonder how many times I'll have to give detention to Slytherins who insist on calling me 'Professor Mudblood' before Snape comes after me for 'targeting' his House."

"I'm sure he'll overlook it with the right diversion," Neville waggled his eyebrows at Hermione. The two passed their walk to the Great Hall with the same sort of banter, each almost forgetting that one would never age, ever.

"Yes, and I remember that you showed up with the gillyweed right after Dobby had given Harry a lump of it!" Hermione laughed as Neville helped her to her seat.

"I've always wondered what it would be like to give detention to a dead student," Severus Snape hissed at Neville, who straightened up and glared right back at him.

"Unfortunately for you, Severus, I'm no longer your student. You have the extreme good fortune of addressing Professor Neville Longbottom," Neville said, his chest puffed out.

"Ah, yes, Professor Longbottom. So, as a professor and a gentleman, you'll pull Professor Granger's chair out for her?" Snape said, an evil glint in his eye as he almost smiled.

Neville stiffened. Looking down at his friend, Neville knew that he couldn't muster enough energy to become solid enough to grab Hermione's chair. He looked from Snape to Hermione and back again before he left without another word.

Snape reached for Hermione's chair and she snatched it from him angrily.

"That was so uncalled for, Snape. It is sheer dumb luck that he is a ghost and you a man," Hermione growled angrily, slamming her butt into the chair as she tugged it in close to the table. Snape sat next to her and she glared at him.

"As my colleague, you may address me as Professor Snape or Severus. Otherwise, you may not address me at all," Snape hissed at Hermione, his face dangerously close to hers.

"I'm so glad to see you two have reacquainted yourselves to one another. I trust that you'll help Hermione in her new position, Severus?" Minerva McGonagall walked by the pair as she headed for her own seat as Headmistress.

Hermione sighed and turned her gaze to her as yet empty plate. Severus contemplated her for a few moments as he thought on how Minerva had phrased the entire idea.

He was going to enjoy helping Hermione into many positions.

Hermione and Tonks had finally worked everything out. For the time being, Hermione would teach the Defense Against the Dark Arts classes while Tonks took over the Transfiguration classes. Oliver Wood had taken time from his quidditch career to come back and replace Madam Hooch, another casualty in the war. In fact, many former students were winging in from different parts to help out. Luna Lovegood would be helping Professors Trelawney and the different centaur aids in divination; Draco Malfoy had been hired as a supplementary potions professor while Crabbe and Goyle were the new grounds-keepers and caretakers, as Filch had been wounded in an attack on the school and therefore could do very little without much help.

Hermione looked around the tables full of staff and felt that it should have been her and Ron sharing the DADA classes, Harry teaching flying and sponsoring the quidditch teams with Ginny. Hermione loved her other friends and she tolerated her former mortal enemies, but she knew what Hogwart's could have been had the Quad stayed. But here she was, sitting in between Severus Snape and Oliver Wood, potions master and possibly the most handsome professional quidditch player. Ron had never really wanted to play professionally; becoming Aurors had been so much more important.

"Hermione, where is everyone else?" Oliver whispered to her, eyeing Snape, who was surveying his former students and sighing, muttering something about how they couldn't manage to be decent students, so how could they be decent teachers?

"They went to the States, I believe," Hermione said quietly. "I decided to honor my commitments and stay here."

"It was good of you to stay, Hermione. We need good teachers, and as an Auror, you are quite competent to teach DADA," Oliver said with a smile, which made Hermione smile. "Ah, that's good to see. I've heard that the Hermione smile has been a nearly-extinct species in recent times."

"You've been playing quidditch professionally. Viktor hasn't seen me, so who'd have told you that?" Hermione said, a slight bit of anger creeping into her voice.

"Ron."

"Ah, so he asked you to keep an eye on me, did he? Did he tell you to tie my shoes as well?" Hermione said, her voice rising in volume and climbing in pitch. "Anything else you'd care to tell me, like perhaps Ginny wants you to club me over the head and apparate me to wherever the hell they are?"

Snape began to take an interest in the conversation when Oliver put his hand on Hermione's thigh as he spoke in an even lower voice.

"I asked Ron about you. I hadn't heard anything about you from Harry or Viktor, and I wanted to know what kind of situation I'd be getting into when I arrived," Oliver said, and his words calmed Hermione. His hand stayed on her knee, and Hermione found the sensation both thrilling and a little strange. Oliver was cute, but she had always thought of him as more of a big brother or something like that.

Oliver smiled wider when Hermione didn't remove his hand from her thigh.

"Dinner tonight?"

Without thinking, Hermione looked from Oliver to Snape, who was staring intently into her eyes.

"Are you asking my permission, Hermione?" he asked, his voice deadly soft.

Hermione grunted at Snape and turned to Oliver with a smile. "Sure, it is always something to catch up on old times with old friends."

Neville hadn't shown up again until Hermione was in her room shrinking her things so she could transport them to her faculty quarters easier. He was floating around the room when Hermione finally threw her hands up and began addressing him in a not-too-friendly way.

"Either pull yourself together and help me, or find someone who can help me," Hermione glared in Neville's general direction.

"Fine. I'll find you some help. Merlin, she must be on the rag," Neville muttered as he floated out of Hermione's room. She glared after him and he tossed back, "Ollie, oh Ollie, where are you?"

Hermione rolled her eyes and continued sorting things. Surely she hadn't unpacked so much when she'd arrived, because she knew she'd be moving shortly. But perhaps she'd underestimated her belongings.

"You wanted some help, but I never imagined you'd invite me to your rooms," a silky voice drawled into Hermione's room, sending a shiver down her spine.

"I didn't. Neville offered to find me some help. I wasn't expecting you," Hermione said, turning to face Severus Snape, the man who'd danced with her so long ago. Viktor Krum had been so impressed with her grace that he hadn't even noticed Hermione had been observing the Potions Master during that Yule Ball so long ago. "Are you here to help?"

"If you insist," Snape said, pointing his wand at Hermione's belongings, apparating them to her new quarters. "Shouldn't you be getting ready for your date?"

"It is not a date. I'm having dinner with Oliver so we can catch up on old times, share common experiences. Rather like you do when you visit the Reptile Room at the zoo."

"That was uncalled for, Hermione."

"So was what you said to Neville earlier. Karma, Severus. Karma."

"If it isn't a date, that you won't mind my tagging along, will you?"

"Of course not. I owe you another dance, if I recall correctly."

Hermione took care not to overdo her clothes or makeup for the night, as she was intent on toning Oliver down. Low-waisted boot-cut jeans and a scarlet v-neck sweater over her favorite high-heeled, high-rise boots were perfect for the night, but as she locked up her new quarters, Snape showed up, dressed in clothes not unlike the ones he wore during that first dance.

"If you intend on dancing, surely you must wear something fit for dancing," he said, eyeing her outfit before hitting her jeans with a spell. The denims became a short black flared skirt and the boots became higher-heeled t-strap black pumps. "That's better. But perhaps the boots could have stayed. . ."

Hermione glared at him. "Are you satisfied? Can we go? I'll be late." And you're a dirty old man, she thought to herself.

Severus offered her an arm and Hermione took it warily; as her hand closed on Severus's arm, he apparated them to Madam Rosmerta's, which the proprietress had transformed in the short time since Hermione had last been there. The inside was larger than before, with a dance floor set in the middle and booths and tables at the fringes.

Oliver was sitting at a small table in a corner, watching the barmaids as he waited for Hermione. He didn't know Severus had tagged along, either. Hermione wasn't looking forward to Oliver realizing the fact, either.

"Hermione!" Oliver said, turning to her and rising from his feet. "Severus."

"You said we'd be remembering, remember?" Hermione said, trying to smile as she wrenched herself from Severus's grip. "I figured since Professor Snape was there, too, his tagging along wouldn't be a problem."

"Severus," Severus corrected Hermione, who almost blushed.

"Severus, I think" Oliver began, but Severus cut him off.

"Professor Snape," he corrected Oliver.

"Fine. Have a seat," Oliver waved to the booth. Severus all but shoved Hermione into the booth before he sat next to her, on the end. "Lovely. Drinks."

"Firewhiskey," Severus and Hermione said at the same time.

"Ladies drink wines and pale ales, not whiskey," Severus admonished Hermione.

"Then it's a good thing I'm just a bloody Gryffindor and not a lady," Hermione tossed back. The drinks came and Hermione bolted hers. Severus did the same and Oliver made sure all their drinks kept coming.

Hours later, Oliver was completely smashed. Hermione and Severus, however, had been careful and were only slightly buzzed by the time Rosmerta was starting to send patrons home. The band was playing its last few songs and Oliver smiled drunkenly at Hermione, who leaned away from him and his breath.

"Shall I see you home, Hermione?" Oliver asked stupidly, trying unsuccessfully to rise from his seat.

"Uhm," Hermione said, searching for a tactful retreat.

"The lady owes me a dance, Oliver. We'll see you tomorrow," Severus said, his arms coming protectively around Hermione. Oliver glared at Severus before he lumbered off home.

"Thank you, Severus," Hermione said, watching to make sure Oliver had left. "I think he drank tonight because he finally realizes that all our memories are just that memories."

"Not everything is just a memory, Hermione," Severus said, standing and offering Hermione his hand. "Our dance wasn't a memory, and you do still owe me another one."

Hermione took Severus's hand and let him lead her onto the dance floor, as he had so any years ago. They caught the rhythm of the music and soon they were moving in perfect harmony.

"I never got to thank you properly, for teaching me to dance like that, and for protecting me and saving me as well. I think I knew that night that chivalry wasn't dead after all," Hermione sighed as she let Severus guide her around the floor.

"Chivalry is all but dead, Hermione. And this will be thanks enough," Severus said, leaning down to capture her mouth in a hot kiss that stole her breath away. His tongue shoved into her mouth, and she tasted firewhiskey on him. His tongue was hot and hard, yet soft and silky unlike anything else. The kiss started off hard but faded to a soft whisper that Hermione had never felt before, with a few little nips that she appreciated. When the kiss broke, Hermione's eyes were glazed and unfocused, and Severus smirked quickly at the impression he'd made on her.

"What was that for?" Hermione whispered, not looking at into his eyes, afraid of what was going on.

"As I said, it was thanks for the lesson and the rescue long ago. But perhaps not too long ago. Mr. Wood was acting quite strangely, don't you think?" Severus switched subjects so quickly, Hermione thought she'd get whiplash.

"What do you mean, exactly?" Hermione said cautiously, not sure where the conversation was heading.

"Has Mr. Wood ever shown any interest in you before, Hermione? I saw how you reacted to him at breakfast this morning, and it seemed to be a new occurrence, correct me if I'm wrong? All those years at Hogwart's and after he left and could have sent word, or come back. . ."

"Are you implying that there is no way any man could harbor any feeling for me, save Ron's teenage crush or Harry's familial affections?" Hermione's voice was shaking, and she couldn't believe the words she'd heard coming from Severus's mouth.

Severus knew quite to the contrary, as he'd often fought his urges while watching over Hermione and the rest of her friends at Grimmauld Place or any of the other hideouts they'd frequented. "Surely that's not what I intended you to hear, Hermione, but what I'm trying to say is that something else may be at work here."

"Oh, so now 'something' is making Oliver take an interest in me?" Hermione said angrily, finally managing to wrench herself from his grip.

"Must you be so dense, girl?" Severus growled as he led her back to a booth that had been vacated. "Mr. Wood has always held you in some regard, as Harry himself does, but the interest he is showing now is a dangerous interest. An unnatural interest."

Hermione snorted. "And the kiss on the dance floor was natural?"

Severus froze, his face paling. His eyes locked on hers with a hawk's intensity. Even completely smashed, each knew the other's weak spot. "As natural as your return."

Hermione chewed her lip for moment. "Point. Moving on. What do you think is going on with Oliver, then?"

"He's giving off a strangely acrid odor, one that he shouldn't be giving off. It reminds me of an old potion, one we don't teach at Hogwart's, or rather, that I've never taught at Hogwart's, because of the side affects," Severus said thoughtfully.

"And this potion would be what? A lust potion, or a personality enhancing potion, or . . . I don't even know," Hermione said, shuddering at the thought that Oliver's real personality would be like what she'd already experienced, or maybe even more so.

"I'll do some research. For now, try not to be alone with him. Get Neville to escort you to classes or something like that while I try to figure everything out," Severus had a suspicion as to which potion had been used, but he had to find out who had administered it if he wanted to actually fix the situation.

"But you saw that Neville couldn't even pull my chair out for me this morning. I noticed you didn't offer to, either," Hermione mused, relaxing against Severus in the booth. Neither of them realized that the source of their troubles could see them quite clearly from his vantage point.

"And how would that have looked to the rest of the staff, especially Tonks, who is probably feeding information straight to Ron and Harry?" Severus said, slipping an arm around Hermione. "Would you like me to get your chair for you at every meal, now?"

Hermione blushed and squirmed a little bit under the intense scrutiny of Severus's gaze. "I don't think that would be appropriate, do you?"

"No. But I can escort you back to the castle, now, and I can do what I can to find out what is going on with Mr. Wood."

Hermione smiled a wee smile and shoved Severus out of the booth. "You do have to address him as 'Professor', you know."

"I know."

"Neville, too."

"Damn."

**AN: Now you've had three chapters to get used to . . . time for reviewing, and lots of it! I would appreciate 5 reviews, signed or not, before I post ch. 4. Thanks!**

**ladykyo**


	4. Oh When the Students Come Marchin' In

**It Starts With A Dance**

**disclaimer: nope, don't own Harry Potter, don't make any money off of the series, and even if I did, would I tell you?**

**I want to take a bit o'space and thank everyone for the wonderful reviews I've received so far. I love reviews, and they really do help speed up the writing process (for me, at least). In response to an unsigned review, I do have a beta (mew-tsubaki, to be precise. . . and Lord, does _she_ write a lot), but I have also switched formats from .doc to .rtf to save space, and when you're using wordpad, there is no spell/ grammar check feature. Add to that being tired (I work 2 jobs, go to college full-time and run things at the house because Da works out of state and Mum works 2 jobs, and I have a little sister), and sometimes I miss one or two things. However, dialectal writing (Like Hagrid's or Oliver's accents) is even more difficult. I'm doing my best for you all, and I hope you are all relatively pleased with the story thus far. **

**Last but not least, another chapter for my beloved readers. I'll post this chapter and the next before I ask for a specific number of reviews (but maybe I'll post even faster if y'all review before I even ask. . .)**

**Chapter 4: Oh, When the Students Come Marching In**

Hermione didn't know whether to feel relieved or annoyed that nothing happened when Severus left her at her quarters Friday night. They'd said good-night rather chastely, without more than a quick embrace. Hermione's body was expecting more, but Severus's remark about Tonks reporting to Ron made her shudder.

Nothing would bring Ron back quicker than hearing that Hermione was into it up to her nose with Severus Snape, potions master and big black bat extraordinaire.

Hermione had chuckled herself to sleep at the image of a big red weasel trying to fight a big black bat. AN: hahahahaha. . . the idea cracks me up, too! When Hermione woke up, it was a little past eight, and she was ravenous. Forgoing a shower in deference to her growling belly, Hermione rubbed her stomach as she padded around getting into comfortable muggle clothing of jeans and a hooded sweatshirt that read 'Property of Pittsburgh Steelers' a cousin had sent her from a trip to the U.S. The jeans were so old and had been washed so many times that they were as soft as the sweatshirt, and so faded they were almost white. Hermione grabbed her robes and headed for the Great Hall and breakfast, hoping to dodge Oliver the entire trip.

Hermione jogged to the Great Hall, arriving just before Oliver and just after Neville, who was having a contest of some sort with Nearly-Headless Nick. Hermione smiled as she recalled her first encounter with the gentleman ghost, and didn't realize that Oliver was right behind her as she turned and trod on him accidentally.

"Oh, Oliver," Hermione said shakily, trying to put some distance between the two of them. "Didn't see you there; sorry?"

Oliver smiled broadly. "No worry, 'Mione."

Hermione bared her teeth in a grimace that Oliver took as a smile. He had no right to call her ''Mione'; no-one called her that who wasn't closer than family to her. "Good. Breakfast?" And now she sounded the dolt. Where was that big black bat when she needed him?

"Ah, 'Mione! I saved you your favorite seat!" Neville called to her, floating her way. He winked and Hermione wondered what was going on. "This way, dearie."

Hermione followed her friend to the faculty table along with Oliver. When they reached their seats from the previous day, Oliver moved to pull a chair out for her, but Neville stopped him.

"Sorry, mate, but this is Hermione's chair," Neville motioned to the chair on the other side of Severus's.

And speak of the devil, the older man showed up to pull the chair out for Hermione. As Hermione sat down, Severus whispered to her, "I informed Professor Longbottom of the situation last night."

"Lovely," Hermione said, setting in to her plate. Students would begin arriving around 10 am and Hermione wanted to be on hand to help acclimate transfer students, the prefects and the Head Boy and Head Girl. As a professor, Hermione was a representative not only of the school itself, but also of the House that had reared her.

"Hermione, shall I take you out on the broom later?" Oliver said, leaning around Severus, who was smirking at the situation.

"Ah, you know, I'm not too good on the broom," Hermione said carefully, trying to diffuse the situation. "Ron and Harry always said I had no stomach for it."

"Well, unlike Harry and Ron, I have a wee bit of faith in you, Hermione. I wish you wouldn't bring them up when I know their unnatural desertion hurts you so," Oliver said fervently.

Neville snorted; Oliver Wood never spoke like that, and he certainly wouldn't bring up such a touchy subject. "Oliver, she's telling the truth. She doesn't enjoy flying because it usually upsets her stomach."

"You, too, Longbottom? After all I did to try to teach you how to ride properly?" Oliver became angry without any sign of a mood swing.

"You know, maybe I do want to fly today," Hermione said without thinking. Severus looked at her sharply. She shrugged helplessly. "Maybe it'd be nice?"

Severus and Neville shared a look and a sigh. Oliver smiled again as he finished his breakfast.

"Lovely. Shall we?" Oliver got up and extended his hand to Hermione, who took it gingerly while mouthing 'HELP ME' to Neville and Severus, who could only watch as she was led away by the drugged professor.

Hermione spent the morning with Oliver on the quidditch pitch while he 'taught' her to fly. Hermione always felt more comfortable in an airplane than on a broom, something she'd never been able to explain to Ron and Harry. Finally, Hermione climbed on a broom and kicked off, doing a few quick laps around the pitch before she set down by Oliver's feet.

"There we are. Thanks for helping me, Oliver. I'll see you later then," Hermione said, handing over her broom and heading for the main buildings.

"We haven't spent our day yet, Hermione," Oliver said, his smile never wavering as he reached for Hermione and tugged her up on his own broom. "We'll have a grand time, and I'll make sure we're back in time for the sorting feast."

Hermione froze as Oliver settled her on his broom, locking his arms around her. She was in deep, and neither Neville nor Severus knew what was going on.


	5. If It's Not His Fault?

**It Starts With A Dance**

**disclaimer: nope, don't own Harry Potter, don't make any money off of the series, and even if I did, would I tell you?**

**Chapter 5: If It's Not His Fault. . . **

Hermione had no idea how to combat Oliver as they sped away from Hogwart's Castle; she couldn't use her wand on him because she didn't know what was causing him to act in such a way, and she couldn't fight him because she was well aware that spells and potions that could control a person could also augment his strength and temper. Hermione shuddered and decided not to try that particular can of worms. Instead, she turned to her assets in an effort to give Neville and Severus time to realize she was missing.

"So, Oliver, where're you taking me?" Hermione said sweetly, trying not to arouse his suspicion. She forced herself to lean back into him, and Oliver relaxed his grip a wee bit, so he wouldn't hurt her. 'That's a good sign,' Hermione thought, 'At least he doesn't want to hurt me, for now.'

"It's a surprise, 'Mione," Oliver said, nuzzling her neck as Hermione shivered in disgust; Oliver was a friend, but not one to use such an endearment. "Besides, I promised we'd be back in time to meet our new students. I don't know if Minerva told you, but she's changed a few things you and I are co-Heads of House. Isn't that lovely?"

'As lovely as a Dementor's kiss,' Hermione thought, and she wondered where exactly the conversation was going. "I'm sure we'll work well together, Oliver. Who are the Heads of the other Houses?"

Oliver was quiet for a moment, and his arms tightened around Hermione's waist. "Why do you ask? You could only be a Head of Gryffindor House, Hermione. Minerva will find Heads for the lacking Houses. Severus Snape is reluctant, however; he has low opinions of the other possible Slytherin Heads. There are very few available."

Hermione opened her mouth and shut it quickly. She thought it was quite strange that Oliver would automatically mention Severus, without her mentioning the older man first. She filed the fact away for later mentione to Severus and Neville.

"You're right; why should I bother with other Houses than our very own," Hermione said blandly, but Oliver perked up at her words.

"I'm glad you feel the same way, 'Mione," he said, and she cringed again as he continued, "And I'm sure we'd have none but Gryffindors of our own."

Never one for theatrics, Hermione had heard enough. She abruptly fainted and fell away from Oliver's grasp, off the broom.

"Longbottom!" Severus Snape bellowed into the Herbology greenhouse. "Damn it, you filthy excuse for a ghost, let alone a professor, where are you?"

Neville floated through the ceiling and hovered around Severus's head as he regarded his former professor.

"Now, that's not very nice, Snape. See please and I'll think about speaking to you," Neville said coldly, completely unafraid of the tall man he was already dead, after all.

"Fine, I'll continue looking for Hermione myself," Severus said, knowing Neville wouldn't desert Hermione in a time like this.

"What do you mean? When I was out at the pitch earlier, Hermione was saying her goodbyes and gearing up to greet students," Neville said, floating down to the ground and settling in front of Severus. "Isn't she at the greater entrance, waiting for her Head Boy and Girl and the prefects?"

"Well, I went 'round to her chambers to escort her to the greater entrance, her room was locked up tight, the way she always leaves it," Severus said, a drop of concern entering his voice.

"And you know how she leaves her rooms every morning?" Neville said teasingly, and Severus glared at him. Neville coughed and continued. "Right then. Did you check the library?"

Severus whipped out a ratty old parchment and tapped it wordlessly with his wand. "I had Tonks and Lupin make my own 'Marauder's Map' for me, and neither Hermione nor Oliver are represented on it."

"When did you last see them on the map?" Neville said, suddenly all business.

"Well, you said that you'd keep an eye on them until noon; it is two o'clock now, therefore I've been searching for two bloody hours! When did you last see them together?" Snape was exasperated with his former student. He'd thought that where Hermione was concerned, Neville would care a bit more, and he said as much. "How well do you really care for her, when you're so cavalier in tossing her safety to the wind?"

"That is uncalled for, Severus!" Neville said, using the older man's given name on purpose. "I care for Hermione as much as you do, at least, and I shouldn't have left early I understand that. But Hermione is resourceful, and strong, and I had no reason to believe that anything more was amiss."

"You were there when Oliver had that temper change at breakfast, Longbottom. I told you he's enchanted in some way, wasn't that enough?"

"Stop blaming me, Severus, and let's get moving. By the way, I may have left, but why did you take so long to contact me? Why weren't you checking your map even while I was supposed to be on watch? You never trusted me with my own cauldron, why trust me with Hermione?"

Severus turned on his heel and trotted out of the Herbology garden, angry at Neville, but angrier at himself; he had a niggling feeling that part of him didn't want to share Hermione's gratitude upon the 'grand rescue', as Severus was beginning to think of the entire mission, that day and the final outcome of the mystery. He paused for a moment so Neville could catch up with him. Severus had no idea where Oliver would go off-grounds, and the map didn't extend very far, just to the end of Hogsmead and the Shrieking Shack, both of which were Hermione-less.

"Wood said he taught you to fly. Where?" Severus said abruptly as they left the school grounds.

"What do you mean, where? Mostly on the school quidditch pitch. What does that have to do with Hermione?" Neville asked, floating past Severus to look him squarely in the face.

"He's enchanted by something, potion or spell, so he's not doing a lot of new thinking, Neville. His baser instincts are going to take over, and they are going to be partially directed by the fact that he's stationed at Hogwart's and the limitations on travel. So, again: where else did he teach you to fly?"

"There's a large well-grassed field about four kilometers past Hogsmead. One time, when it started to rain and we were too tired to go back to the school, we found an abandoned cottage and stayed there until we could get back to school. Maybe that's where he took her."

Severus considered that for a moment before he began walking faster. "Do you think you could remember the way to that cottage?"

"Yes, but don't you think you should try a broom instead of walking that distance?"

Hermione woke when Oliver shook her gently. She opened her eyes briefly but when she saw him smiling over her, his button-down shirt open to frame his chest, her eyes grew wide. He was holding her gently, a cool cloth in one of his hands while the other caressed her torso just between the underside of her breast and her ribcage. She could feel that her sweatshirt was gone, and her thin cotton undershirt was barely worth mentioning; she thanked all the gods she could mention that she actually put a bra on over her rather voluptuous breasts. His eyes moved from her face to her chest, and her nipples puckered under his gaze. He smiled and Hermione cringed away from him, remembering that smile from somewhere, but she couldn't remember where.

"Ah, Hermione, this is going fast, but I can't say I'm upset," Oliver said, his voice deepening with each word. "I'm sure we'll make lots of wee ones, all Gryffindors as smart as you and as athletic as me."

'That's as likely as Severus rescuing me again,' Hermione thought to herself. 'And if he does, I'll do anything he wants; this Oliver is just too fucking weird.'

"Ollie," Hermione cringed at the nickname; Oliver had always hated it, and more than one willing future "Mrs. Oliver Wood" had found herself single after refusing to stop using the abhorred nickname. If anything was going to snap Oliver out of the enchantment, "Ollie" would.

"Yes, 'Mione?" Oliver's eyes were glazed over, and he laid her back on the cushiony carpet he'd been kneeling on while he held her. Hermione had had enough; the look in his eyes was sickening, and the nickname had the exact opposite effect of what she'd been expecting and planning.

"Perhaps we should wait? I mean, you don't expect me to be a woman of little virtue, do you?" Hermione was desperate, and it was showing.

"But Ronald said you were begging for it. And I think you should beg now!" another abrupt mood swing and suddenly Oliver was on top of Hermione, his hand painfully tangled in her hair so she couldn't look away. "What do you want to beg for, Hermione? What do you want me to do?"

"Get off," Hermione whispered, trying to pull away. Her hair was still wavy and curly, so Oliver had no trouble getting a good hold of her. "Please, I'm begging you to get off of me."

"Get off on you? Wouldn't you rather have me in you?" Oliver brought his face down to Hermione's, and she could feel the spittle hit her cheek. She turned away, trying to get a good angle to knee him somewhere, anywhere, just to get him off her. "Come on, 'Mione girl, what do you want?"

Finally, while Oliver was busy trying to nuzzle into Hermione's neck, she got the angle she needed.

"I said," Hermione growled as she lined up her golden shot, "'Get off of me!'" Hermione grunted and kneed him in the groin, effectively shoving Oliver off her as if he'd been shot out of a cannon.

Hermione looked around for a broom but couldn't find one. She went for her wand in her back pocket, but it wasn't there. She looked up to see Oliver's tall, leanly muscular form lurching to his feet.

"Fuck, you recover fast," Hermione said before she thought.

"Hermione, you shouldn't have done that. I would never hurt you, you know that; I just want to make love to you. But now I have to do something about what you did to me. Just remember, from now on you decide what happens to you. Behave, and this won't have to happen again," Oliver said, and the look of almost perfect sanity that can come only from insanity scared Hermione into a corner.

Hermione felt her back meet the corner and she didn't bother to take her eyes off Oliver to see the truth of her situation: whether Oliver was doing this on his own or under enchantment, she was literally backed into a corner in a house she didn't know, and there was a good chance that no-one would arrive in time to save her from Oliver, and Oliver from himself. Wandless and broom-less, Hermione was beginning to feel panic in the form of bile crawling up the back of her throat. She plastered a smile on her face and decided to try to talk him down.

"I'm sorry, Oliver. I just like things a little rough in the bedroom, that's all," Hermione said, desperate to gain a bit of time to think. "I didn't know that a big, athletic man like you wouldn't like that." She cringed did she really just say that? She was disgusted with herself for a moment before Oliver rushed her. She tried to roll under him and get clear, but he snagged her denims and dragged her under him.

"Hermione, I'm so glad to hear that. That means you'll like this, then," Oliver growled, grabbing a nipple and pinching so hard Hermione cried out in pain. "Good, ye like it," he rasped, and he twisted as he stripped Hermione of her t-shirt and bra. Unable to do anything else, Hermione broke down and started to cry for the sheer frustration of not being as physically strong as her attacker.

"Get off me," Hermione moaned, trying to keep moving so Oliver wouldn't be able to get a good enough grip to remove her pants. "Get off me. Get off me. Oh, Merlin please just get off!"

A strange look flickered across Oliver's face and Hermione barely had time to turn her head to avoid a sharp smack. With renewed energy and anger, Oliver moved from her chest to her waist, trying to pry her legs apart.

"I know you fucked Weasley, Hermione. I just want my due if you fucked him, aren't you moving up in the world by shagging me? Besides, it isn't as if Snape's here to save you this time," Oliver hissed, and Hermione barely recognized him, his face screwed up in anger and his neck muscles contorting in his rage.

"On the contrary, _Wood_, I am here and you are going to remove yourself from her body or I will kill you where you lay, and no-one would charge me for saving the girl who helped defeat Voldemort," Severus Snape roared as he blew the door of the abandoned cottage wide open in a show of sparks and splinters. Neville Longbottom floated in, carrying a heavy kimono-type robe for Hermione.

Oliver didn't stop; in fact, he moved even faster, paying no heed to the others in the room, opening his own trousers while tearing Hermione's denims with almost inhuman strength. Neville couldn't make himself solid enough to fight Oliver and Severus was at his breaking point. He threw a high-powered stunning spell at Oliver, but the enchantment afforded him extra strength and resilience, and the spell was just absorbed by the side-affects of the enchantment. As Oliver positioned himself at the junction of Hermione's thighs, she screamed and Severus snapped.

"I told you to remove yourself from her!" Severus roared, hurling himself at Oliver and knocking him off Hermione and into the far wall. The enchantment had taken enough, or was losing hold, because the blow knocked Oliver out. Severus stayed over Hermione, shielding her as he hissed at Oliver's still, shallowly breathing form.

Neville hovered near the pair, silently offering the kimono but not saying a word; he wanted to see what was happening between the two, who were both breathing heavily and to his surprise both seemed to be crying. Severus was cradling Hermione while trying to gather her torn clothing around her for her comfort. She kept pushing his hand away whenever they came near her chest or hips, and Severus was whispering to her, words Neville couldn't hear. Setting the kimono down next to the pair, Neville floated over to Oliver, laying a semi-solid hand on the unconscious man and apparating back to the entrance to the Hogwart's grounds.

The words Neville couldn't make out were:

"I'm sorry, Hermione. I should have told you back then I'll never let anything happen to you, I'll always be in time. I should have been here before.

**AN: And here's where I ask for five reviews before you learn any more about Oliver, who may be controlling him, and just how Hermione is going to show her gratitude for being rescued.**

**5 little review, even if all you write is GOOD. LESS NOTE-Y, MORE UPDATE-Y (and the first person to actually put that in the review gets the next chapter dedicated to him or her!)**

**ladykyo**


	6. Then Whose Fault Is It?

**disclaimer: nope, don't own Harry Potter, don't make any money off of the series, and even if I did, would I tell you?**

**This chapter is dedicated to me613, the first person to respond with the Peter Griffin-like "LESS NOTE-Y, MORE UPDATE-Y"; thank you so much to all of you. Your reviews are what keep me writing, even when my personal life really stinks.**

**So, here it is, now that we have plenty of reviews. And don't forget, 5 more will get you chapter 7! (Don't worry; I'll remind you later, too!)**

**Chapter 6: . . . Then Whose Fault Is It?**

Neville had left Hermione and Severus in the cottage, hanging around outside while Severus helped her gather her wits. He had come back after dropping Oliver off at the infirmary and setting Pomfrey to watch him; he didn't want to leave them for too long on the off-chance that whoever had ensorcelled Oliver would come round to see if the deed was done, and give them more trouble. Still, he knew better than to interrupt or eavesdrop; both Hermione and Snape could be terrors when eavesdropped on. Neville played the dignified and respectful ghost for a few minutes before he realized something.

"Heheh," Neville chuckled, "I'm a bloody ghost now. I can be invisible; it isn't like when I was a student and couldn't manage to sneak air out of an invisible balloon."

Neville focused and felt his ethereal self become lighter and lighter until he was invisible. He smiled to himself as he floated up to the open window to listen to the happenings in the cottage. Hermione was trying to cover herself while Snape held her at arm's length. Her body faced him, but her eyes were averted, heavy-lidded and downcast. Neville settled in for a good listen, his presence completely shielded from the pair.

"Hermione, you needn't worry about this anymore; Oliver is knocked out and far away, and I'm here. He won't hurt you while I'm here. Look at me," Severus said, his voice low; he wouldn't risk that whoever was behind everything might hear if he were close by. Severus was sure by now that it was a man, a man who had something to hold against her, romantically or otherwise. He held Hermione carefully, close enough to support her but not so close as to frighten her after such an ordeal.

"But that's the thing, isn't it, Severus? _Oliver_ is knocked out, but I thought we already agreed that someone was affecting him to make him act this way. You're here now, but you can't be here all the time," Hermione said miserably; she really did hate relying on anyone in such a way, but she knew that wandless she was no much for a magically enhanced, full-grown wizard. "I think I should leave. Ron, Harry and Ginny are all in the States I could go stay with them while this blows over."

Something in Severus's chest hardened. He hated the thought of her running from anything, but not as much as he hated the idea of her running to _them_, when he was here with her, when he could protect her without uprooting her life, when he knew he could protect her better. His grip hardened on her arms and he fought the urge to shake sense into her.

"If you leave, there is no telling whether or not the true enemy will follow you, Hermione! And how do you know that they'll be able to protect you at all, let alone better than I could protect you?" Severus hissed, and he made himself let her go, afraid he'd hurt her. "Ron already left you to follow Harry and Ginny. Are you really going to let him do it to you again?"

Hermione's eyes were wide and shocky. She shivered involuntarily and Severus gathered her in his arms again, holding her close and rubbing his hands up and down her arms; he knew he shouldn't have said what he did, but how else could he make her realize that the safest place to be, the best place to be, was with him?

"I I hadn't thought of that, Severus. But d'you think they'd actually do it again?" Hermione's voice was uneasy, and while good Severus knew that making her think like that was wrong, bad Severus saw his advantage.

"Hermione, ever since you met them, Ron and Harry have put you last, your safety last. Cave trolls, petrification, abduction as part of the Tri-Wizard tournament, the battles at the Ministry, and so many other things you were their last thought, Hermione, not their first," Severus said in a soothing voice. He knew he'd hate himself later, but he had to try to get her to see his side of things. "Where were they when you had that trouble with Zabini back in your 4th year? I helped you then, not Ron or Harry."

"But they tried to get me to go to the regular lesson. Perhaps if I had done that, I wouldn't be in this situation with you," Hermione said coldly. She was coming out of her shock, and she didn't like his tone.

"Yes you would still be stuck with Oliver, and he would be hurting you!"

"Ginny has always thought of me, Severus!" Hermione argued, pushing him away from her.

"But now all she thinks of is Harry! Hermione, they are your friends, but they aren't here. I am; I'm not leaving, and neither are you," Severus said, gathering her into his arms as she sobbed.

"They always thought of me last, Severus. I was always left behind, and teased, even by my two best friends in the world, no matter what I did. I studied, so I was a target! I was bait, and I was hurt, and they thought of me last," she sobbed, crying all the days', all the months' tears that she'd saved up for so long, fell, soaking Severus's robes.

"Sh, sh, all will be well, my girl," Severus said, holding her awkwardly, squeezing her tight for a moment. He knew he had the advantage, but he also knew that the situation had the potential to be very bad for him. "They love you, Hermione, but they're selfish and young. Immature. You are so very mature, and they are jealous of that. They think of you last, but it is because you can take care of yourself so well."

"But at least they think of me."

"That they do, Hermione. That they do."

Something changed that day, between Severus and Hermione, but also in how Hermione thought of herself and her friends. Severus brought her back to Hogwart's and took her straight to her rooms. They went past Neville, who just nodded to Severus. The students were already lined up outside the Great Hall for the Sorting; the older students were inside, waiting to see who would be going where. Hermione showered and changed into more formal robes of flowing, deep burgundy before she donned her hat and stepped out into the corridor.

"Severus!" Hermione gasped at the older man. "I thought you had to go change as well. We'll be late!"

Severus smiled at her, offering his arm. Hermione took in the entire picture: Severus's hair was clean and pulled back tightly so it looked clipped, his robes were black and silver, and the only green represented was found in his eyes and a great emerald clip at his throat.

"'Twas nothing for me to conjure this appearance; would you prefer something else?" Severus said, one eyebrow crooked.

"Well, I have a question."

"And I managed to do something to keep you from automatically blurting it out? Pray tell me so I may remember it for future use," Severus teased, wrapping an arm around her waist.

Hermione glared at Severus, allowing him to hold her gently.

"That brooch is very womanish on you," Hermione said, trying to insult him into a good verbal spat.

"Then it is a good thing that it is meant for you and not me," Severus said, unhooking the pin from his robes and pulling a chain out for it, sliding the emerald along the chain and fastening around Hermione's neck. It was an unfinished piece, large and shiny but not cut or set according to current trends.

"Severus, it doesn't match," Hermione said, blushing as the weight settled against her collarbone. "And it is too expensive."

"Nonsense, Hermione. Nothing is too expensive for you; and as for matching, well," Severus tapped Hermione's shoulder with his wand and her robes of burgundy were suddenly much tighter robes of gold shot through with silver and green, a shimmering fabric that caught the light and changed color with every ray. "Perfect. You alone among your classmates, save Harry himself, could have been a member of any House. But I'm glad you didn't choose Slytherin."

Hermione was walking away, grabbing his hand to lead him to the feast when she asked him why.

Severus waited until the noise of the Great Hall would mostly drown his voice out.

"Because then how could I have controlled myself? But then I would already have you."

**AN: Notes time! I know this was short, so I only need 3 reviews for the next chapter! **

**1st reviewer gets Chapter 7 dedicated to him/ her.**

**Next chapter: The Feast and A Nightcap**

**ladykyo**

**Brenna of the separatesisters**


	7. The Feast and A Nightcap

**disclaimer: nope, don't own Harry Potter, don't make any money off of the series, and even if I did, would I tell you?**

some notes:

Zvezdana: I'm sorry; I think I made the mistake of assuming that the bulk of my readers have read other stories I've written, because I do tend to keep some things about the HP universe in my stories from one to another. For clarity's sake, in my version of good ol' Hogwart's, some people (namely, Professors, especially members of the Order) _can_ apparate within the school walls and surrounds. Sorry that I didn't have a character bring that up earlier (plus, Oliver is enchanted, and his powers are somewhat enhanced. . . so perhaps the extra strength affects the situation as well?) And please don't call me an 'idjit' (and if you do, please spell it 'idiot') hugs

Sampdoria: I know, me too. Don't worry, all bad deeds (not the naughty ones, though) will not go unpunished.

And this chapter is dedicated to . . . (drumroll, please!): snapehermionelover, as she was the first one to review chapter 6 (please take no offense if you are male. . . I just assumed cause I'm a girl, and . . . anyways.)

**Chapter 7: The Feast and A Nightcap**

After she'd seated herself beside Severus, Hermione looked around the Great Hall. Minerva and the staff, along with the house-elves, had truly outdone themselves for the opening feast of the year. The returning students were all seated at lavishly spread tables, set up buffet-style. Hermione thought it odd that the food was already laid out, remembering back to the opening feasts during her tenure as a student, with empty plates and magically appearing food. She laughed as she recalled the surprises all the brand-new students had to look forward to, especially in her class, and Severus's; she did still shiver when she recalled his opening speech in her very first potions lesson. She smiled at the thought and at then at the man next to her.

Severus glared at his returning students, occasionally hissing at an insubordinate Slytherin. The Ravenclaws stalked by, heads held high.

"Damned arrogant gits," Hermione breathed, watching the Ravenclaws and their grace. That had always irked her; why were they not only universally intelligent, but so damned beautiful and graceful? "Not that I'm jealous; I can dance just as well as they can.

Severus quirked an eyebrow at Hermione, which caused her to blush. All these years later, and she could still remember the first time she'd ever felt as graceful as the Ravenclaw beauties. In _his_ arms, dancing with _him_. Severus didn't need Legilimency to read her thoughts. Hermione ignored his arrogant smirk and turned her attention back to the student body.

The Hufflepuffs that remained to be seated tried to slink by to escape Severus's notice, but all they could manage by and large was an unseemly trudge. Hermione smiled kindly at a few of them, and more than a few of them that had been lowerclassmen while she'd been a student got cocky, bowing deeply to her and even blowing her a kiss or two.

Severus bounced a few Itchy-Nose hexes at the most impudent of the lot.

"Randy dunderheads," he hissed. They scurried off like first-years caught in the Forbidden Forest and Hermione glared at Severus.

"I know you care more for the student body than that, Professor Snape," Hermione said, trying to be stern at the man who was still smirking at her.

"I can only think of one 'student body' that truly concerns me," Severus said, his voice velvety; his eyes were lidded as he slid them up and down Hermione's seated form and then away from her, widening at Minerva McGonagall's expression.

"Ah, Severus, I see that you are doing your best to make our Hermione feel welcome?" Minerva said, a smile quirking the corners of her mouth. She'd picked up quite a few of Albus's traits since his death and her elevated position.

"Yes, Severus, we all owe you something for saving our Hermione, don't we?" Tonks chimed in from just beyond Hermione. Severus had to swallow a hiss; Hermione was _his_, for Merlin's sake, even if she didn't know it yet.

Tonks and Minerva shared a smile over Hermione and Severus's heads, and Tonks turned to wink at Remus Lupin. Remus winked back and decided to get in on the fun.

"Yes, Severus, how kind of you to help our Hermione. Now, my dear girl, may I pour you some pale rose ale? Rosmerta sent it over for our Hermione, so she could have a stiffer drink without regrets," Remus said, barely keeping a straight face. Hermione was beginning to catch on, but a look from Tonks held her tongue.

Severus couldn't take it anymore.

"Shut up, all of you! She is not 'our Hermione'! She doesn't belong to any of you! I saved her because she's m" he hissed, stopping short, breathing heavily. He was not going to say anymore, and he refused to be goaded any more during the feast. He had low tolerance for dunderheads. "Shouldn't we all be making sure that everyone who is supposed to be here is here, and that no-one who is not supposed to be here is not here?"

Tonks and Hermione shared a look while Remus coughed and looked away. That left Minerva.

"I think we all understood what you said, there, my boy, but just in case, I'll just keep counting heads. You, too, because you're my second," she said, sitting down and looking at her list, while Severus glared at anyone who made the mistake of meeting his gaze. Hermione sighed; she hoped there would be dancing, else her night was ruined. She waved to students she knew, and chatted with her seatmates.

"Tonks, what happened to Oliver?" Hermione said quietly, not wanting to stir Severus's wrath for bringing up the situation. She was still contemplating leaving and going to Ron in the States, no matter what Severus thought she'd agreed to.

"Well, after Neville brought him back here, Pomfrey took a look at him. I was there as back-up, in case he tried anything while she examined him. He coughed up some vile-looking black water; I have the sheets that it soaked into so Severus can look at them later. However, and you'll need to tell him this, the water got very hot and then very cold before it regained room temperature. In fact, the sheet's a little burned from the heat. I imagine that's important. Try not to get too distracted that you forget," Tonks grinned evilly. The grin melted away shortly, though: "But we don't know who put him up to the deed. Oliver's going to take the blame."

Hermione paled, and she gave Severus a quick glance, making sure he was ensconced in his glaring before she continued. She bit her bottom lip as she thought a moment. She fought the urge to twirl her hair while she spoke.

"Tonks, what if I were to not press charges? He only did it because he was under someone else's control. I have no problem with Oliver himself," Hermione said thoughtfully. He was a friend, and she didn't want him to pay for something that wasn't his fault. She could just imagine what Severus would say if he heard what she was saying.

"Hermione, the wizarding world doesn't work like the muggle world. If a woman is attacked, she can press additional charges, but she can't withhold all charges," Tonks said, leaning back in her chair. "Because of things like the Unforgivable Curses, assorted charms, and the plethora of behaviour modifying potions, the Wizengamot is automatically notified and the accused tried."

"That's ridiculous, Tonks. He attacked me, not the Wizengamot! Can I do anything to help him?"

"You can be at his trial this coming Thursday morning. Can we talk on Wednesday? The feast is about to start, and Severus is going to get curious if we continue to chat like this, with you chewing your lip."

Hermione blushed, and turned to observe the hall. Everyone was assembled. Minerva rose from her seat, and Hermione held her breath as her as her favorite part of the opening feast commenced: the Sorting.

"That was wonderful!" Hermione laughed, smiling as she and her colleagues sat a while after the prefects and Head Boy and Girl escorted the youngest students to their dorms. Tonks was a little tipsy, and Remus was supporting her. Hermione knew that the house-elves didn't put anything strong in the drinks, but Tonks liked to have a wee bit of fun every once in a while. On top of that, it was obvious Tonks was acting; Remus would have had kittens if she'd actually gotten herself snockered at a school feast. Not to mention Minerva. She turned her attention to Severus.

"I believe that when the upperclassmen get back, the dance portion of the night will begin?" Hermione said, standing and smoothing the robes Severus had transfigured for her. It was a brand new tradition that Minerva had started that very year; classes would start a little later on the first day so the night of the Sorting Feast the 5th through 7th years, along with the staff, could have some fun. A ball was just what they all needed.

"I call the first dance with Hermione!" Tonks laughed, removing herself from Remus's lap. Severus glared at her, but Remus caught on to the fun.

"Well, then I call first with Severus," Remus said, trying not to laugh. Hermione kept her mouth closed, but she was smiling.

"I think it should be up to the ladies of the table," Hermione said finally, as the older students arrived with their dates and friends, the music starting up in a faster waltz. "Professor Snape? Lupin?"

"I'll show you 'lady'," Severus growled, grabbing Hermione and dragging her onto the dance floor in the midst of all the school. His hands gripped her waist, bringing her close to him before he changed position his arms coming 'round her just under her ribs, supporting her back as he twirled her in large circles and turns around the room. Hours passed as he danced her 'round the floor, barely pausing to let her catch her breath. Finally, a slow song came on, and Hermione recognized it as a muggle song. She let the music wash over her as he held her.

She was pressed up against him, aware of his height in contrast to her own average height, his hardness against her softness. She let him ply her body against his, flexible and graceful with the music as it moved them, before it became a much slower, more erotic rhythm. Severus's hands slid lower, coming to rest just above her bottom, heating her back and making Hermione shiver. She raised her eyes to meet his, wide and sparkling. She licked her lips before turning her gaze aside and letting him lead her in the dance.

"Why look away from me, Hermione? Are you still that little 4th year Gryffindor, afraid of the body and the admiration it gained you?" Severus said, his breath hot on her ear as he whispered to her in a velvety voice. The tip of his tongue traced the shell of her ear, and Hermione shivered again. She leaned into him, shaking and trying not to writhe. His grip was silk-covered iron, a torment she needed to endure, else she'd lose her mind. "Or are you the proud tigress, prowling the dance floor in my arms?"

She gave in; her body responded to his violently, heat flooding her stomach and flushing her face. There were plenty of faculty to watch over the students still dancing, and she suddenly felt that there were more _pressing_ matters that she must attend to. She stretched up on the tips of her toes, nipping at his ear, not saying a word.

Severus partially released her, removing one arm so her good escort her from the hall. Tonks and Remus had already left, making their own grand exit. Minerva carefully ignored the fraternization among her employees; her eyes were misted as she thought of her own missed chances and lost love.

Hermione let Severus lead her off the dance floor and out into the corridor, where they froze for a moment. Severus looked around before he grabbed her arms and pulled her up and against him, pressing a hard kiss against her mouth. His tongue traced the seam of her lips, but danced away when she opened her mouth.

"Not here," he whispered, his hand flat against the small of her back. The robes he'd transfigured for her clung to her body with the exertions from their dances. His eyes were lidded, and for a moment they shone a vibrant emerald green, like the one at her throat.

"Then where?" Hermione sighed against him, snuggling her mouth in the hollow of his throat. She wanted him more than she'd ever wanted anything before, more than she thought she could ever want something. She had been through so much; didn't she deserve to have what she wanted?

"Your quarters?" Hermione asked softly, her breath mingling with his. It was too much for Severus, but he knew that wasn't where they needed to be.

"Not tonight, my dear," Severus said, gently removing her from his neck. Hermione's eyes glistened in embarrassment; what was he saying, doing? Why stop now?

"Tonight, your rooms, Hermione," he said, getting hold of her hand. "If you'll lead the way?"

Hermione was startled; Ron had always taken the initiative, so she had no experience in such a role. He'd initiated the act, and she'd complied. Not that she didn't enjoy herself, but she wasn't used to the idea of being the lead. She liked to be. . . well, she preferred bottom to top, not that anything had ever progressed too far along that particular tack. AN: private message me if you want me to explain about that. If you're interested, you could always do search research on the dominance culture. She blushed and led him to her rooms. She'd hoped things would be different with him; perhaps he had the same tastes she did.

They walked along quietly, an almost-awkward silence between them. Hermione was nervous about what he wanted her to do, and Severus was nervous about what she expected from him. His own experience was not. . . broad. A few anxious couplings when he was just out of school. And an encounter he'd prefer not to remember, with Bellatrix Lestrange; he couldn't imagine another encounter with someone who delighted in nearly castrating him. Since that time, he'd been celibate; twenty years of celibacy after so little experience spelled virgin for him.

Hermione shook a little as she whispered her password; the painting covering her portal swung open with a small creak. Hermione was glad she'd oiled the hinges she definitely didn't want someone coming to check on her while she was inviting the potions master into her room. The candles and fireplace were charmed to come on when she entered, so the room was bright and warm as they stepped through the doorway. Hermione blew out a few of the candles so the room wasn't blazing, and she smiled.

"I like plenty of light to read by," she said simply. She straightened a few random things and shoved them on a shelf, making room in her little parlor.

"As do I, Hermione," Severus loved the taste of her name in his mouth. When he said her name, he could taste her. He sat on the sofa and smirked at her reaction.

"What are you doing, Severus?" Hermione said, cautiously coming round the sofa to stand in front of him.

"You cleared off the sofa. I assumed that we were going to sit and stare at one another until we had to get ready for class," Severus said with a straight face. He was enjoying the predicament he was putting her in, but he was also a wee bit nervous. At least she was nervous, too.

"Well, if that's all you want to do," Hermione said, sitting next to him. She smoothed her robes and watched him for a reaction. She leaned over him to snuff out a candle and she knew she'd won.

A hand shot out and grabbed her arm, turning Hermione so she was on her back across Severus's lap. He stared down into her eyes, black on caramel.

"If I let you up, you can go to bed, I'll leave, and you wont' have anything to regret," Severus said hoarsely, his breath hot and heavy over her.

"Do I have another option?" Hermione breathed, her voice husky. Severus levered her up and into his arms, rising from the sofa effortlessly.

"I was hoping you'd say that."

Hermione was shivering under Severus's direct gaze. She'd tried to dim the room until there was barely any light, but he'd stopped her. He'd said he wanted to see her; there was time enough for darkness when they slept.

Severus had closed kicked her bedroom door closed behind them, Hermione still in his arms. He'd only let her slide down to her own feet when they were standing by her large bed. He laughed as he looked at the monstrosity.

"Are you laughing at me, Severus?" Hermione felt off-balanced; first they were about to make love, then he was laughing at her. She had the feeling that was how it would always be between them never know what would happen next. _And I'm already imagining a future for 'us'. . ._

"I just imagined that you would be one for the large, gaudy four-poster covered in some god-awful pink," Severus said, smiling. He was enjoying toying with her. She glowered at him, and he slid his hands up and down her arms.

"Not here," Hermione said. She was wondering what his rooms looked like; were they all in Slytherin colors? Her room was largely in Gryffindor colors, but she'd thrown in some gray and blue as well. Needless to say, most everything clashed somehow.

"I'll have to show you my rooms. I think you'd quite like them," Severus said, moving his mouth to her neck, parting her curtain of hair and pressing a kiss to the soft curve of her throat. Her life pulsed beneath his mouth; he couldn't help himself and he nipped her hard. She moaned and pressed against him harder than before. Severus cursed himself for it, but her reaction was nothing short of erotic.

"Severus," Hermione drawled, dragging an arm across her own chest, trying to draw his attention. He looked in her eyes, fell into the liquid caramel pools; her eyes were darker, creamier, deeper than before, _bedroom eyes was the term_, a deeper part of Severus told him. The robes he'd transfigured for her were practically see-through by then; transfigured clothing never lasts too long.

"Hermione," he said, pushing her hair back and out of his way as he nipped and bit along her neck and collarbone. Little welts were rising on her skin, and blood welled up in a few of them. He moved to her mouth, sucking hard on her lips until she opened her mouth for him. He shoved his tongue into her mouth, drawing hers into his own mouth and biting down on it. She gasped again, and he tore the robes from her form.

Hermione kept her mouth pressed against Severus's, more excited than before. He'd torn her robes, and it was only fair she get him back. She dragged her hand down his front, ripping the buttons from his shirt. A great cloud of black and silver silk fell to the floor, pooling around their feet. She gazed over the length of his body, clad only in black silk boxer shorts. His skin was translucent, not sallow, like it had been for all those years while he danced the double-edged sword of espionage. Scars marred the flesh of his lower abdomen, but his chest and upper back were relatively clear. The scarring started down below the boxers, wending their way to just above his navel and around to about the same height on his back. She kissed his jaw and pulled back slightly, allowing him to pull her robes completely from her body. Her knickers were brief, and her braless breasts stood high and firm, nipples pert in her excitement.

Severus brushed the knuckles of one hand over her breast before he palmed the globe. He brought his mouth down to her breasts and kissed each, nipping before he spoke.

"If I had only known what was under those robes," Severus said, sucking on one nipple while he palmed the other.

"We'd never had made it to the feast," Hermione breathed, pulling his head from her bosom. She brought his head up until she could look in his eyes. "Severus, I want you on that bed, the sooner the better. Everything else can wait."

"As you will," Severus said, picking Hermione up and throwing her down on the bed. A part of him panicked, though; what if she didn't like what he'd been doing? What if she found it repulsive, and wrong?

Hermione smiled shyly up at him from the nest of blankets and covers, her eyes a sea of passion and storms. Severus knew from her blush that she must have liked at least some of what they'd been doing.

_No matter. So long as I can have her at all, it doesn't matter that I can't do those things_, Severus thought to himself, moving his hands shakily over her body, testing her for readiness, refusing to hurt her anymore that night. He kissed her softly, before moving down her body to her mons.

Severus kissed the curls carefully, smoothing them aside to lay a kiss against her softest skin. The tension in his groin and the room was unbearable.

"I'm glad you don't shave, my dear," Severus said, and almost coughed in an effort not to laugh at the look on her face.

"How How can you say something like that?" Hermione said, her face redder than ever. _Prime example of how you'll never know what he's going to say or do next_, a voice told her.

Severus plunged his tongue into her core, stretching her just a bit with his softest muscle. Hermione gasped as Severus began to lap at her, long strokes that threatened to rob her of her sanity.

Severus was worried, though; he was on the large end of average. Well, no, actually, he was on the shorter end of 'almost too big'; it was part of why he didn't engage himself too often. Women had complained that he was too big, too wide; he didn't want to hurt her, or to have her refuse him later.

_And I'm already contemplating 'later'_, Severus thought to himself as he moved from her core to her mouth. _She's as wet as she's going to get tonight_, a voice said to him. _Just take her and have done with it. Get her out of your system_. Severus shook his head of _that_ thought. He was well and truly caught; she was oblivious to how she'd ensnared him.

"Severus," Hermione's insistent voice broke him out of his reverie. "Come to me."

Severus moved his hand down to pleasure himself. He wouldn't put her through this. Hermione grabbed his hand and stopped him.

"No. I want you."

Severus moved so she could see how large he was, how painfully aroused he was. His erection stood tall and Hermione wondered when he'd lost his boxers; she also noticed a knot of scar tissue around his base and sacs. She decided to ask him later; he needed her in that moment, just as she needed him.

"I don't want to hurt you."

"Even if I asked nicely?"

Once Hermione said that, Severus couldn't stop himself. He braced himself on his elbows, over her, positioning his head at her slick entrance. He rubbed himself against her a few times, gauging her, teasing her a bit with his tip until she was raking her nails up and down his back. She tried to get more of him, but he held himself from her.

"What happened to asking nicely?" Severus breathed in her ear, his breath hot and wet, his tongue gliding along her lobe.

"Fuck that, Severus. Take me!" Hermione was near shrieking when she said that. Severus shoved himself into her core, one long, hard, fluid moment. He slid in until he felt her cervix against his tip. Hermione gasped for breath at the intrusion; she'd never been so filled before in her life. "Oh, Merlin, Severus. Gods, keep doing that."

Severus pulled himself out slowly, carefully pushing his way back into her. He did that for a while until Hermione raked a particularly sharp nail down the side of his neck.

"Harder, please, I won't get there if you don't," Hermione pleaded, her voice husky and thick. "Don't leave me behind."

That was it for Severus. He started slamming into her, practically bouncing off her cervix, moving the entire bed as she rose up to meet his every thrust. It wasn't long before both were shouting, screaming each other's names.

"Severus, please, Severus, now, I want, now ngh!" Hermione cried as she clamped around him, milking him for all he had to offer.

"Hermione!" Severus said, crashing into her. He was still hard; he couldn't stop yet. He was creaming her but he couldn't stop moving. Finally, his body seemed to give out on him. He collapsed on Hermione, who rolled over a little bit so Severus was actually on the bed and not her, but not too far from him. She nestled into his side, snuggling deep.

"Get some rest," Hermione said, kissing him softly.

"You, too. You have your first classes tomorrow," Severus said, dropping a kiss on her head.

"I meant because it is only 1 am and we don't have anywhere to be until 11 am."

**AN: Howdy! Just wanted to thank everyone who's been reviewing me so far. How'd you like this chapter? Too much? Well, there's more to come.**

**I wouldn't mind if y'all give me some ideas about other places to post that aren't as strict on the ratings. (One person did, but I couldn't find the site.)**

**I do have another HGxSS story in the works, but I probably won't be posting that until I finish 'Every Time We Touch', and I'm not sure if I'll post it under this penname or separate-sisters.**

**So, you all know the deal: 5 reviews for the next chapter (which is entitled: Consequences??). I was going to ask for 10 reviews (grins evilly) but I wouldn't do that to you all. I really do love hearing from all of you, what you like/ dislike about this story, ideas, what you've written. And I would love if you guys would give me some feedback about where to post my latest story, 'Black Never Suited You' (the one I mentioned up there) lady-kyo or separate-sisters?**

**So, review, and feel free to private message me. I try to respond.**

**Oh, and the first reviewer gets Ch 8 dedicated to him/ her (and let me know which, so I don't have to be all pc. . . or I'll assume you're a girl)**

**hugs**

**lady-kyo**

**Brenna of the separate-sisters**


	8. Consequences?

**disclaimer: nope, don't own Harry Potter, don't make any money off of the series, and even if I did, would I tell you?**

this chapter is dedicated to . . . ginger28!!! Thanks for all the reviews, guys. I love hearing from all of you; I always find reviews refreshing and inspiring (ahh, in't nice? and sappy?)

KK Duke: I will be pm-ing you. I appreciate the time you took to message me, and I'll explain a little bit, as promised.

RagamuffinSundrop: I'll keep pushing till they tell me where the line is, so have no fear!

**AN: the fives are my new pagebreaks. 'Cause all the others keep goddamn disappearing. And yes, at my Hogwart's they have showers, like muggles do. Construe as you like. teehee**

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**Chapter 8: Consequences??**

Hermione was in the shower when Severus woke up for the first morning of classes. It was around 9am, but he felt as if it were 4 or 5am, due to his . . . exercises the previous night. He stretched and grimaced as his bones creaked and cracked in protest.

"Merlin, if we have such an extended lifespan, why doesn't the quality of the body get extended, as well?" he hissed through his teeth. Severus knew why his body made such noises when he rose: he'd been in espionage for years, in battle and flight for longer, and his body had taken more than a toll from it all.

A song was coming from the bathroom, and Severus recognized it as Hermione singing in the shower. He smiled and got off the bed to join her.

Severus had his hand on the doorknob when the bathroom door flew open. He pitched forward, onto a very wet, very nearly naked Hermione straight from the shower. She caught him and helped him right himself as he spoke.

"Couldn't you be like every other person on this gods-forsaken earth and take a ridiculously long shower?" Severus groused, putting his hands on Hermione's shoulders as he stood again. He brushed her hair back from her chest so he could kiss her collarbone when he saw the marks. "Merlin's arse; is that what I did last night?"

Hermione blushed and looked away. Severus caught her chin and brought her gaze to his; she was blushing, but she was definitely smiling in a very saucy way. She nodded, finally, and Severus let out the breath he didn't know he'd been holding.

"I can believe I hurt you, Hermione. I never meant to, you must know that. I just couldn't" Severus said, but Hermione put her finger to his lips.

"Don't worry about it. I like things like that, Severus; I'm glad I found someone else like me," Hermione said quietly, her eyes searching his for . . . something. She wasn't sure what, exactly. But she'd know when she saw it. "I left the water on for you, but I have to get changed and meet up with Tonks before classes; we have a few things to iron out."

Severus went quiet for a moment before he spoke again. "I hope that those 'few things' don't have anything to do with you trying to keep Oliver Wood from his deserved punishment."

Hermione sighed. "Severus, I forgot to give you something last night. Tonks left me the sheets that Oliver was on when Neville brought him back here," Hermione said, leading Severus over to a locked cupboard. She said a charm and a small key was revealed on her desk. She grabbed the key an put it in the lock, turning it to unlock the cupboard. A few things were hastily shoved in, the sheets and some things that she just hadn't had time to organize. One shelf in the cupboard was dedicated to her muggle heritage, with books by muggle authors, muggle music players, and assorted muggle comforts that Severus would ask her about later. Another shelf held a locked and charmed box that Severus was intensely interested in while the last shelf was full of paraphernalia from Hermione's school years, a plaster cast of one of Crookshanks paws, newspapers about Harry and Viktor and other friends, and picture albums and frames too numerous to count. "Here we are."

Hermione grabbed the sheets and brought them over to her desk, spreading them out and finding the spot that Tonks had indicated the night before. The sheet was crispy and black where Oliver had spit up the potion, and at one point, the sheet was burned clear through. Severus grabbed his wand out of the pile that had been his dress robes and tied his hair back again, so it wouldn't get in the way. Hermione really like his hair that way, but she didn't want to mention it right then.

"I'll have to take this to my lab and examine it, but I don't want you to go near Oliver without Tonks, Remus, or me until I have some better answers. In any case, this is old magic, and not from the Isles, either," Severus said, shaking his head. "This type of potion hasn't been used for centuries, perhaps millennia, Hermione, and whoever is using this wants you dead, or just wants you."

Hermione shivered. She was sick of being hunted, first by those creeps while she was a student, she couldn't even remember their names, then by Deatheaters, and now some psychopath. "Fuck."

Severus stared at her. Hermione glared at him and crossed her arms over her chest.

"Go shower. I have to get changed and I still have to talk to Tonks. After classes we should do some research on the potion. Do you have anything else for me to ruminate on during the day?"

Severus smirked. Even threatened and stressed out, Hermione still managed to prove over and over again why she was the smartest, perhaps the strongest witch of the age.

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"Tonks! Over here!" Hermione called out to Tonks from her classroom. Hermione had eaten breakfast in her rooms with Severus, leafing through the newspaper and her notes for her first class. "What's going on with Oliver?"

Tonks ducked into Hermione's classroom, her hair purple for the day. "He's been transferred to the Ministry of Magic for the time being, until his trial. Are you set for your lessons?"

Hermione nodded, and knew Tonks wouldn't be telling her anymore about the situation until she deemed it necessary. She and Tonks had worked out their lesson plans together, deciding that Hermione would teach Defense Against the Dark Arts for the first half of the year while Tonks taught Transfiguration; they would switch classes for the second term. Tonks smiled and ran off to her own classroom.

Hermione waited for her first crop of students, a group of first-year Gryffindors and Slytherins. She smiled warmly at them until a particularly smarmy Slytherin girl got on her nerves.

"Morning Professor Mudblood," the girl hissed. Hermione slammed her hand down on her desk.

"If you, any of you, are under the impression that you may abuse me because you are full or partially blooded and not muggle-born as I am, let me disabuse you of that notion now. I would remind you that I stood with Harry Potter in the final battle along with Ron and Ginny Weasley. On top of that, I was at the top of my class all seven years I attended Hogwart's and I was prefect and later Head Girl. Blood has nothing to do with talent, strength, or ability. Now," Hermione said, singling out the girl who'd been so rude. "What is your name?"

"Phantasma. Phantasma Lestrange. And I know you," the girl smirked, and Hermione's blood ran cold. "You killed my mummy in the Ministry of Magic."

"Sit down. I'll deal with you later, child," Hermione spat out. She'd always been proud of her lack of bias, but that child was another matter. Bellatrix Lestrange did die by Hermione's hand, but that was after the other woman had tortured hundreds if not thousands of people. As the class started, Hermione hoped that Phantasma hadn't inherited her mother's tendencies.

**555555555555**

Severus went through his classes in a better mood than usual. He accredited it not simply to the fact that he'd finally released years of built-up sexual tension, but rather to the partner: Hermione. She was golden in the dim light of the bedroom, shy but passionate. He couldn't wait until he had her again; he was sure it would be even better. He was careful no to let his good mood come across to his students, though; he didn't want them to make the mistake of assuming that his good humour would extend to them.

"You. You there; stop this instant," Snape hissed at a first year. "Before you put anything else into that mess you call a potion, what is your name?"

"Wally, sir; Wally Longbottom. My cousin Neville's a professor here," the boy said, energetically tossed an unlabelled ingredient into the cauldron. "I'm much better at potions than Neville!"

BOOM!

"Apparently not," Severus drawled, casting a cleaning charm on the boy and his friends at his table. "You may sit and watch for the rest of the lesson. Perhaps your cousin can help you with your homework, which will be a re-brewing of this potion, unless you want to fail for the day."

The younger Longbottom nodded silently and gathered his things so he could creep from the room. He was almost to the door when Severus spoke again.

"It would terribly difficult for you to observe the lesson if you leave, Longbottom."

Wally was miserable when he returned to his seat, in the midst of his friends, cauldron-less and looking at a night of brewing and re-brewing the potion until Snape said it was right. As he glared at Snape's back, he had an idea.

Why not have cousin Neville's friend Hermione help him?

**555555555555**

Hermione was reviewing her notes on her students just before dinner when Neville floated in, watching her until she noticed him.

"Neville, stop floating up there and get down here to talk to me," Hermione said without looking up. Even as a ghost, Neville couldn't sneak around her very well. He realized that any snooping he'd done so far was either at her pleasure or so innocuous it didn't disturb her.

"Hey, 'Mione. How were your classes?" Neville asked, coming down until he was resting on the floor.

"Fine, except for one of my first-years," Hermione grimaced at the memory. That little girl frightened Hermione, even though she had years on the younger girl.

"Oh, pureblood? Must be a Malfoy that escaped," Neville said matter-of-factly.

Hermione shook her head. "Worse. Bellatrix Lestrange's daughter, Phantasma. And I have no idea if she's anything like her mother. For our sakes', I hope not."

Neville shivered involuntarily. Bellatrix's favorite curse was the Crucio, which his parents had been subjected to, destroying their minds. Even dead, Neville feared the maniac. He shook off memories of visiting his parents at St. Mungo's and got to the reason why he was bothering Hermione at such a time.

"I have something that may help take your mind off her," Neville said, smiling broadly.

"That would be?" Hermione said impatiently. She needed to get to dinner so she and Severus could do their research.

"Would you mind helping my cousin, Wally, with a potion he needs for Snape's class? Wally messed something up, and Snape gave him tonight to brew another potion. So, whatever you did, keep on doing it; it's helping," Neville said, smirking at Hermione, who blushed furiously.

"Fine; we'll bring food to the dungeons and eat while we brew. If Severus looks for me, tell him I'll find him after dinner," Hermione said, gathering her notes into a neat pile and standing. "And just this once, Neville. I don't want him to get accustomed to having so much help; it will be better for him to depend on himself than others," Hermione said sadly, guilt creeping up on her. Neville had been strong, but she felt that his guilt was at least partly her fault.

Neville focused and managed to put his hand on her shoulder. "Hermione, no-one could have known that the prophecy meant my death as well. I know it won't ease anything, nor will it bring me back to life, but this wasn't your fault."

Hermione dropped her head into her hands, trying to hold the tears back. "I know, Neville, but if maybe if we'd read it again before the battle, or if we'd dueled more, had more experience, things would've been different."

Neville sighed, losing himself as his hands shimmered. He had a hard time controlling his substance when he was upset, and Hermione wasn't helping. Most days, he could deal with being a ghost, when it wasn't an 'in your face' experience; but when his friends dwelt on the issue, or people pitied him, it was unbearable, and were he alive, he'd probably contemplate suicide or self-mutilation.

"Hermione, stop feeling sorry, for me, and for yourself. If you feel so guilty, then help my cousin. But stop this. It isn't helping anyone, and it is making my existence worse," Neville said harshly. Hermione's head snapped up, and the tears stopped.

"Fine. But only this once. And only for you, Neville."

**555555555555**

Helping Wally was probably the most frustrating experience of Hermione's life. The boy thought he was better than Neville, and was too cocky for Hermione's taste, and she'd hung out with Ron and Harry for ages. But Wally was too much. Hermione ended up mostly brewing the potion herself, and she finally had it after an hour and a half of dealing with the boy.

"Wally! Back off! I'm done. You can finish this on your own; your cousin practically had to beg me to help you, and I know why. You deserve to flunk potions! You are an insufferable git. Not even Ron and Harry were so dense and so unwilling to learn as you have been in this last hour and a half. I hope Severus takes you to hand!" Hermione screamed. She'd had it, and that was the end of it.

"Very well. I thought you were just an annoyance, but your ineptitude is far outweighed by you attitude. You flunk for the day, Mr. Longbottom, and should you ever have your cousin coerce Professor Granger into helping you again, I will flunk you for the year," Severus Snape hissed as he entered the potions dungeon, his robes flaring out behind him. He laid a proprietary hand on her shoulder as he glared at the boy.

Wally was struck dumb by how everything was turning out. Hermione had made sure that cousin Neville got through Hogwart's and Wally himself _couldn't_ be as bad as Neville, right? Hermione was fuming and Snape was still hissing. Wally nodded and waited for the adults to leave. He was lucky he didn't have deten

"And Mr. Longbottom? Detention, for the next week, with the caretakers. I'll know if you miss it, and then you'll have detention with me."

**555555555555**

Hermione and Severus worked silently for about an hour, each being careful with the other, until Hermione was ready to scream from the silence. Severus beat her to it.

"Hermione, I have a potion for you to take. I don't remember casting any charms last night, so"

Hermione blushed and cut him off. "No need. I use muggle methods and maintenance potions so I needn't fear any 'consequences' if something happens. So you don't have to worry about me tying you down," she joked.

Severus felt an odd tug in his chest, but he pushed it aside. They were colleagues, and she was his former student. She'd never want to be stuck at Hogwart's with him for any amount of time. An odd look crossed his face, and Hermione gave him a questioning look. He shook himself and tried another takc.

"I could always tie you down, you know," Severus joked along with her. _It is better this way_, a little voice said, his conscience. _For whom?_ Severus responded. _Surely not me. And what about her?_

Hermione laughed. "After we get some work done, perhaps?"

Severus got up and gathered a few ingredients along with the sheets. He mixed the ingredients together with fresh water and while he waited for the solution to settle, he spread the sheets out over a desk. The burned spot was quite evident and Hermione got up to observe what Severus would do. Severus made a few quick cuts, removing the burned spot and the fabric around it for three inches. He snipped a small piece of the unburned fabric from around the burned area and dropped it into a bowl. Severus picked up a dropper and dipped a few drops out of his solution and dripped it onto the fabric.

Severus repeated the process with pieces closer and closer to the singed area, until he finally added it to the burned area. Hermione watched as Severus performed the procedures, and what she saw confused her.

"Severus the solutions are all turning blacker and blacker, based on the closer to the burned area the fabric was, but the burned area stayed clear," Hermione said, reaching for the blackest solution.

"No! Don't touch the solution, Hermione," Severus said sharply AN: yay for alliteration!!, grabbing her hand before she touched the solution. "You don't want this to grab hold of you."

"What do you mean, 'grab hold' of me? It is just a solution," Hermione said, shaken by his outburst. "Or is the solution a cousin of whatever potion burned through the sheet?"

"Right on the last. One of the few ways to check for this potion is to use a related potion to call for it. Another is to brew more of the potion, which would incriminate us, or to brew the counter-potion, which would take at the very least, a week. I was afraid that this was the potion," Severus added, as an after-thought. "This potion will burn through whatever is not a specified target, without leaving a trace. Whatever Tonks or Poppy did to the sheet stopped the process, which is lucky for us; without this sheet, I'd have nothing to test, and worse, no evidence to show the MLE. Not that they'll believe us, anyhow."

"Severus, enough with the asides. What is this potion?" Hermione said, exasperated.

"Black water is the translation. Latin '_aqua negra_'; the original Babylonian and Assyrian are lost to time in this regard. All the information I have has been passed down via oral tradition, which was finally transcribed around 1200 AD. It is a difficult, dangerous potion to make, and it has long been banned. Only a very few Potions Masters and Mistresses have made this potion since it was outlawed; I think perhaps it has been brewed less than twenty times in the duration," Severus thought aloud.

"Severus, if it has been banned like that, what does it do, and when was it brewed and used?" Hermione said, shivering at the implication. If even Severus was frightened in the least by a potion, then it was something to truly be feared.

"It is a potion that completely controls the person it is given to, and very rarely, the victim not only does as he or she is ordered, but does other things found deeper in his or her psyche, dangerous, sick things that are hidden by the lucid areas of our brains. So most of what Oliver did was an order"

"But some of it was him," Hermione gave a wavering sigh, on the verge of tears. "Who else has it been used on, in history?"

"Muggle, or wizard, Hermione?"

"Either. Both. Just tell me, so I have something to feel worse about, to distract me, to show me that this really isn't all that bad, Severus; I'm scared."

"A poor Serbian student."

"World War One?"

Severus nodded. "John Wilkes Booth."

"Charles I."

"Bloody Mary."

Hermione shivered as Severus ticked off names she knew from history classes before coming to Hogwart's; infamous people responsible for assassinations, war, terror, epidemics, torture, hell on earth. Finally, after almost five minutes of names, Severus stopped.

Hermione waited for a moment before she spoke.

"Severus, you didn't mention Hitler, or Tito, or Hojo, or the terrorists responsible for those attacks in the US. Were they"

"No, Hermione. Some things are too evil for even the darkest magic to provoke."

**555555555555**

Hermione and Severus spent the night researching the Black Water, poring over Severus's private books and gathering information from the restricted section of the library. They were coming up with very little. It was around midnight that Hermione slammed a book shut rather hard.

"Hermione, that was rather much force for the poor book. Something you'd care to share?" Severus drawled, a book open on his lap while three more were strewn over his desk.

"I'm frustrated and tired. I'm going to bed. And I want to know what was behind that look that swept your face earlier. But for now, I'll content myself with my own bed and a slightly less enthusiastic nightcap," Hermione said, getting up and walking to the door leading to the corridor. "I'll see you at breakfast."

"Hermione, wait," Severus said, and she stopped to look at him. He had gotten her to stop, but now what did he say? "Why don't you stay here tonight? You wanted to see my rooms."

"What was going through your mind earlier?"

"What do you mean? About the potion? I get sidetracked when something interests me, Hermione. You should know that; you do that to me enough," Severus gave her a weak smile.

"No. The contraceptive potion. What were you thinking about then, when I mentioned not wanting to tie you down, a very strange look crossed your face. Where exactly do you think this going?"

Severus felt cold pool low in his stomach, a very unwelcome change to the feeling he usually got from Hermione's presence.

"Would it be so bad to have my child?"

Hermione opened her mouth, clamped it shut, and ran, tears streaming down her face.

Severus dropped his head into his hands, shaking as cold tears washed down his face.

"Last night was a mistake. Pity from her; acquiescence to my desires. She doesn't give a damn.

But for the thought of us to be so bad. It's too much!!"

Severus slammed his fist down on the end of his desk. A vase fell over, landing on that hand, breaking both the vase and the hand. Blood mingled with the brackish water, streaming down the desk and soaking the small rug under it. Severus howled in anger, but the pain helped distract him.

"Fuck!"

**555555555555**

**Sorry, had to do it. The story decided it wanted to take a turn, and I couldn't stop it. Things will get better, and it is always darkest before the dawn, so have no fear. We just need a few plot twists every once in a while.**

**Five reviews and you get a new chapter. I'll try to get these out closer to when the review quota is met; sorry, but life can get in the way. And my boyfriend thinks I'm obsessed. So, in your review, let me know if you think I'm obsessed, if you're obsessed, and if you think that's a bad thing.**

**First reviewer gets the next chapter dedication.**

**Ciao! **


	9. Come On, Now

**disclaimer: nope, don't own Harry Potter, don't make any money off of the series, and even if I did, would I tell you?**

**and this chapter is dedicated to. . . spyhorse! Thanks for all the great feedback, everyone! And don't forget, 5 little reviews will get you the next chapter.**

**555555555555**

**Chapter 9: Come On, Now**

Hermione avoided Severus for quite a while after their row. Severus did his research while Hermione did her own, even visiting Oliver to help him with his defense, since she knew he had been coerced into hurting her. It went against what Severus had asked her to do, but she wasn't in any mood to listen to him. Oliver's prison at the Ministry was better than Azkaban, but not by much; some days it seemed the only thing lacking was a horde of Dementors. The Ministry officials that checked on Oliver were seldom civil, bringing cold, congealed porridges along with their insults. Once, Hermione even had to keep the guard from sending the food with someone who was violently and quite contagiously sick; it wouldn't do for Oliver to get sick while he was under watch. They'd let him die before even thinking to provide a healer.

More often than not, Oliver spent the visits apologizing and telling Hermione that he didn't feel anything like what he'd done. For his sanity's sake, Hermione refrained from telling him that the potion used on him not only had its own agenda but also heightened his own unconscious desires. For her own sanity, Hermione tried not to think about it either. Unfortunately, whenever she wasn't thinking about Oliver's case and the Black Water, her thoughts bounced back and forth between Severus at Hogwart's and her friends hiding out in the US. Neither was something she cared to dwell on.

Classes came and went, with Hermione pushing her students harder and harder; she wanted them to be more than prepared for Tonks. She had been speaking with the older woman about everything under the sun – except Severus. Lupin had broached the subject once, when he noticed that neither was at a meal while the other was there.

"Hermione, I'm beginning to think you're some muggle superhero, and Severus is your alter-ego," Lupin had joked one morning. Hermione had left without a word or her breakfast while Tonks had regarded him coldly. When Severus had arrived looking for all the world like a tiger with a thorn in his paw, Lupin hadn't tried to make the joke again. Severus grabbed food and left the Great Hall, away from possible encounters with Hermione. Or McGonagall, for that matter.

Whatever was wrong with them was affecting the entire castle, though.

**555555555555**

By the second week of October, Severus had to admit that he was at his wits' end. He was suffering from lack of sleep and a strange meal schedule. He wouldn't risk running into Hermione, so he went to the Great Hall at odd times, and if she was there, he didn't even enter. He'd been going to the kitchens for food, and threatening the house-elves with clothes if they told anyone, and that had resulted in Minerva ordering the house-elves to stop feeding people without her express order. He couldn't make it to Hogsmead for every meal, and even if he could, he didn't like having to deal with Madam Rosmerta all the time.

"Bloody wench," Severus muttered to himself, pouring himself a good measure of firewhiskey. "A former student has managed to push me out of my own damned hard-earned seat at the high table. She shouldn't have run. She said she wouldn't run, dammit!"

CRASH!

Severus had thrown the glass tumbler, and it collided with the back of his fireplace. Firewhiskey showered over the low-burning embers and the fire cracked to life, roaring for a moment before it died back down. Severus closed his eyes and leaned back in his chair, sighing. This would never do; but how did he fix it?

**555555555555**

Elsewhere, Hermione wasn't faring much better. Her hair was frizzier than ever from lack of care. She bathed and ate, but she didn't care and she never had an appetite anymore. Every time she crawled into bed she remembered the night with Severus, and how he'd made her feel. She hadn't been ashamed, just exhilarated when she found her match in him.

But when he started talking about kids, she felt as if she were back at the Burrow with Ron and Molly, with no say as to when or how many children she'd have. If she could have children. The legendarily fertile Weasleys wouldn't understand that infertility and difficulty conceiving ran in her family why else did they think she was an only child?

"And with my luck, Severus is overly fertile and I could be pregnant now," Hermione muttered, getting out a bottle of pear brandy. She'd gotten a taste for it while touring the Balkans and the former Yugoslav Peninsula with Viktor and some of his friends on a trip a while ago. She thought about what she'd just said and laughed. She was as regular as a clock, and she already knew that she wasn't pregnant. But a niggling little voice asked her if she was truly happy about that.

**555555555555**

Severus was in the middle of bullying Dobby into letting him into the kitchens when Minerva finally caught him in the act.

"Dobby, I am Deputy Headmaster, and my order stands: let me into the damned kitchens before I put you out with the nicest pair of socks you've ever had nightmares of!" Severus roared at the little elf, who was standing his ground.

"No, Masters Severus, sir. Mistress McGonagalls says no food without her orders, sir," Dobby said, pulling on an ear with one hand while he slapped himself with the other. "Not evens Potions Masters."

"Severus!" Minerva's voice cracked through the air. "_You_ are our little mouse?"

"Minerva, kindly order Dobby to let me into the kitchen so I may eat," Severus said in a low voice. "I am not so even-tempered when I am hungry."

Minerva snorted in a very ladylike fashion. "You've never been even-tempered, Severus, not even while sedated. You'll have to give me a better reason than that. Like why you haven't been coming to meals? It isn't as if you are off on a reconnaissance mission, now is it?"

Severus's jaw worked as he tried to control himself. "I have been grading and on top of that, I have been quite tired. Satisfied?"

"No. But I can think of something that will get your mind off everything else. You can plan the All Hallow's Eve Ball."

"You are out of you mind if you think I'm going to plan a ball for those oversexed and under-disciplined atrocities you call students."

"Well, you see, technically, Rosmerta's house-elves are also under Hogwart's and therefore my jurisdiction. But if you don't want to plan the ball"

"I'll do it. Just let me into the damned kitchens."

"And you'll start coming to meals again?"

"Yes! Now let me into the kitchens or else I'll starve to death just to spite you!"

"Very well. And don't forget, Severus."

Severus turned to face Minerva, one foot in the kitchen. "What?"

"You can always just ask politely. I'm sure I wouldn't have had to twist your arm if you'd just said 'please'."

**555555555555**

Chuckling, Minerva left Severus to the kitchens. There was really only one person who could help him now, since Minerva herself had made sure than everyone else at the castle had a project to work on that would keep each and every one of them too busy to help Severus.

Coming to Albus's portrait, Minerva sighed.

"I think once I finish your work, I may join you, my love. I am too tired to do much else."

**555555555555**

**Hmm, whatever could Minerva be going on about? Who can help Severus? What's going on with Oliver? And whatever will I do with Hermione and Severus?**

**For anyone who's read my other stories, I don't often do the angst thing to a high degree, but this story seems to call for it in a way. I'll try not to push anything too far (no-one too important will do anything permanent to him/ herself, don't worry), but I happen to like smut, so you'll see plenty of that in chapters to come.**

**5 reviews one happy writer one new chapter for all my readers!**

**ladykyo**

**Brenna, of the separate-sisters**


	10. I Will

**disclaimer: nope, don't own Harry Potter, don't make any money off of the series, and even if I did, would I tell you?**

**this chapter is dedicated to . . . sirsevchick! Thanks for the reviews I have received so far. I love my reviews, and I find that they really do get the creative juices going. **

**I wanted to address some things people said. **

**Sampdoria: Don't worry. The angst will let up soon, and I have good plans for this story. I know what you're talking about, too I hate it when authors drag out suspense and angst just to have filler. **

**sirsevchick: Thanks, I try to balance things, but I know people who are quite like some of the characters in the books, so my perceptions of the 'real' people tend to color how I write the characters.**

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**Chapter 10: I Will**

Needless to say, Severus was on eggshells since his deal with Minerva. Not only was he completely inept at planning things for the brats he taught, everyone he had tried to pawn the task off on was busy with 'more important things', as they all put it. Between members of the Order who were still tracking down rogue Deatheaters and instructors who were supposed to be researching new teaching method, everyone he'd asked had been unable to help.

But there was one person he hadn't asked. And he didn't plan to, unless he truly was helpless. Except he was at his wits' end. The students couldn't be bothered, so he hadn't even managed to pull together a 'dance committee'. As he paced his dungeons, he realized only one thing could help him now, one person.

Hermione Granger.

"Dobby!" Severus summoned the house-elf who had a soft spot for the girl. The creature popped into the room and averted his eyes from Severus, bowing low.

"Yes, Masters Snape, sir, Dobby is being here to help yous, sir," Dobby said in a small voice. All the house-elves feared the Slytherin head of house, and were well to do for it.

"Dobby, I want you to bring Professor Granger down here, immediately. You are not to tell her where you are bringing her, and she is not to resist. You will not tell her who has summoned her, and you will do this immediately," Severus gave the order quickly before he lost his nerve. Dobby slapped himself and nodded, apparating away with a pop. _That has never made me comfortable. If a house-elf can apparate around the wards like a member of the Order, then what else has the same ability?_ Severus thought as he waited.

After a minute, Severus chuckled to himself. No way would Hermione refuse Dobby, not when she knew he'd be in trouble if he didn't procure her, even if he didn't give her any reason. It was perfect.

**555555555555**

Hermione had managed to stay clear of Severus, but she had long known she'd have to make the first step, offer the first olive twig, so to speak. In fact, she was gearing up to go to Severus and try to get through things when Dobby apparated into her room, completely unannounced. Hermione dropped the hairbrush she'd been using and reached for her wand before she realized that it was just Dobby.

"Dobby! You scared me. I thought you were supposed to announce yourself," Hermione scolded her house-elf buddy. She'd known him a long time, since he'd tried unsuccessfully to get Harry out of Hogwart's for his own good. Obviously he'd failed, but he'd stuck around and was actually one of their most loyal allies.

"Dobby is being very sorry, Harry Potter's 'Mione, but Dobby has come to collect his 'Mione. Dobby is being so sorry, but we's gots to be leaving, now, before he gets mad," Dobby said in a weak voice, slapping his face with one hand while the other pulled one of his ears.

"Dobby, where are we going? Who asked you to bring me to him?" Hermione said, the hair on the back of her neck rising in alarm.

"Dobby cannot tell 'Mione, on orders, Miss. We must be going, Miss, or he'll be angry with Dobby," the elf said miserably, pulling on his ears harder than ever.

Hermione's heart went out to the poor creature, but she had to ask him one last question, and depending on that question, she just might have to 'obliviate' him.

"Dobby, the one who ordered you does he mean to hurt me?" Hermione asked, holding her breath while she waited for his answer.

"NO! Never! This one would never mean Miss, harm, no, and Dobby would never bring Miss to harm! Never, never!" Dobby stopped pulling on his ears and instead ran to the wall and began pounding his head against it, causing great blooms of blue and black to rise up in bruises on his forehead. Hermione grabbed his shoulder to keep him from doing anymore damage when the sly little creature winked at her and apparated her from her rooms.

**555555555555**

"Took you long enough, Dobby. I thought I told you she wasn't supposed to be allowed to resist. Fetch us some dinner from the kitchens. And yes, the ban on the kitchen has been lifted. It is part of why Miss Granger is here," Severus Snape said to Dobby, dismissing him so he could discuss things with Hermione.

"You should have just invited me here, Severus," Hermione griped, seating herself on a couch.

"You wouldn't have come, and the resulting shouting match would have entered the record books. At this point, we have many things to discuss, even if we stay up all night," Severus said, regarding her as he sat in a chair opposite her.

"Agreed," Hermione decided he didn't need to know that she had been planning on seeing him, anyway.

"I'll try to be honest with you, and I want you to do the same."

"I will."

**555555555555**

**Short but the next one will be longer and more informative.**

**Because this was so short, only 3 reviews are needed for the next chapter. 1st review dedication.**


	11. Secrets

**disclaimer: nope, don't own Harry Potter, don't make any money off of the series, and even if I did, would I tell you?**

**This chapter is dedicated to gravity01, my first reviewer on the last chapter. Thanks for all the great reviews, and keep'em coming. This chapter is going to be longer to make up for the short chapter beforehand. As usual, 7 reviews will get you the next chapter, first reviewer gets the dedication!**

**I also want to dedicate this chapter to Gwen-The-Bath-Junkie. This is the first story she read on her new laptop, so I am of course quite honored.**

**At the time I'm writing this chapter, by the way, we're up to 92 reviews!!! YAY!!**

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**Chapter 11: Secrets**

"Are you still visiting Mr. Wood in his imprisonment?" Severus asked right off the bat.

"Yes. Obviously; they moved his trial back, so we aren't sure when it will happen, and he needs at least some human company. They don't treat him well, and no-one else goes to visit him. I keep him company and bring him food. You'd be appalled by how they treat him; it is almost as if he's in Azkaban. All that's missing is the Dementors," Hermione shivered at the thought of the dark guard of Azkaban.

"You'd be amazed at what I can tolerate, Hermione," Severus said dryly. "You seem to think that my life started when you and Potter started school here. I hate to destroy your lovely illusions, but at twenty-five years your senior, I did live almost a full life before you were even a dream in your mother's heart."

Hermione swallowed hard. She hated to admit it, but Severus was right. She and her friends had often been guilty of assuming that all their instructors existed only at Hogwart's. Well, Hogwart's and Grimmauld Place. But she alone seemed to think that Severus hadn't existed until they'd met. Even after the dinner with Oliver and Severus, and the night they'd spent, she still had a hard time envisioning him outside Hogwart's. Tears were fighting to well, but she wouldn't give him the satisfaction.

"I wasn't waiting for a response, Hermione; I was merely making a statement. It is up to you to change how you think and act accordingly," Severus continued, trying to tweak her temper. Anything just to get a fiery emotion out of her, to get her to talk to him.

"And how do you think I should think and act; what is 'accordingly' to you?!" Hermione stood and started to shout. No-one likes to have a flaw flaunted, and Hermione is no different. "Maybe _you_ should change _your _behaviour and act accordingly towards me!"

That was the ticket. But now Severus had to up the ante, he couldn't let things spiral out of control and have her leave again.

"I'll do that when you start being honest with and listening when I give you advice!" Severus was on his feet immediately, looming over her, taking the height advantage; six feet is nothing to ignore, especially in a powerful wizard and Legilimens.

"I'm just as honest with you as you are with me, Severus! Where'd you get those scars?" Hermione went for the jugular, knowing he'd hesitate to tell her. They were both sick in their own twisted way, but she'd come that way; she had a strange feeling he'd been turned.

"After you tell me why you ran from my rooms that night. What is so scary about a child, or spending more time with me?" Severus wanted to shake sense into her, then cast a spell so she'd never leave him, always his and hidden from the world that would hurt her. "Or was I right when I thought it was a pity fuck, you acquiescing to my own dark desires because she felt grateful and indebted?"

"How could you think that? I would never use sexual favors, and I really thought better of you, Severus. You should know"

"Know what? I offer you a contraceptive potion because I thought that you would like some time to adjust to life here, with me, and you shook me off; when I asked about children, you ran. So tell me, Hermione, what am I supposed to know, and how the hell am I supposed to know it?!"

"Severus, it is more complicated than that. What we did that night. . . We weren't thinking. We had no boundaries. We did things"

"I did things to you. You let me; you never mentioned that you didn't like them, or that you were disgusted. When I said that I didn't want to hurt you, you asked if I would if you asked nicely; things would be different if you'd said you preferred something else!" Severus was getting more frustrated as the argument continued, but he knew her voice wouldn't give out for hours. They could shout at each other for days, if they had the mind to.

"I never said I didn't like them! But how did you get that way? I know I've always been like that, I've just never had a partner quite the same way. And I think those scars have to do with why you like it so rough," Hermione said, the words spilling over one another as she ducked her head in shame. Such a confession, that she'd always liked rough sex, meant much to Severus. She wasn't condemning him; she was asking him to not condemn her.

"Bellatrix. She was an older Deatheater responsible for bringing me into the fold, so to speak. I was a virgin until I became a Deatheater. Rapists can be women as easily as men, Hermione, even when the body is willing," Severus said harshly, crossing his arms, defensively instead of offensively as he did when instructing.

"But the scarring "

"It didn't take long before I was stronger than Bellatrix, and I started attacking her before she attacked me. It started one time when I managed to overpower Bellatrix after a raid, not long before Albus would come and offer to help me, in exchange for information. . . "

flashback

_I was tired after the raid; it wasn't as if it were the first time I had to go on a raid, but it was the first time I had to participate. They gave a me a girl barely old enough to menstruate. I was forced to take her in the circle, my reluctance overrun by Voldemort and the Imperio. She was so broken afterward that I had to break her neck to end her suffering. If she'd still been alive, Lucius and the other males would have passed her around, fucking her until she died of the physical trauma._

_I still remember how she cried as she begged me first to stop, then whispering, begging me to kill her before the others could have her. She was maybe fourteen years old; I had just turned seventeen. Lily was marrying Potter, and I had taken out my frustrations on this girl; she had those green eyes. I did the only honourable thing left: I did as she asked me._

_Bellatrix was waiting for me when I arrived back at the Stronghold, taunting me. Rudolphus had been the one to find the girl they'd given me, and he'd given Bellatrix a hair from the poor girl's head; Bellatrix had brewed a shoddy Polyjuice Potion from it, and she taunted and taunted me, begging me not to kill her, but to fuck her, to give it to her again._

_I grabbed Bellatrix and dragged her to my rooms, an unintelligent thing to do at Stronghold. I started pounding her head against the floor, but she's always been too resilient for my tastes, and she took such pleasure from stealing any innocence she could find in anyone. I decided it was time she be on the receiving end._

_I ripped her dress off, using my wand to bind her to the bed on her back. I was not in the mood for pleasure, but a simple charm not only woke me from my rest but enlarged my already large member. Bellatrix had often commented that the only thing she hated about taking me was how large I was. I made sure I was monstrous that night. _

_She had started screaming as soon as she realized why I was hard; not aroused, incensed. I slapped her face as I reached down and arched her back to I could aim better. I ripped into her, tearing her each time I moved in and out. When I was done there, I flipped her over and ravaged her ass. But I'd taken too long, and Rudolphus had come to see what was the matter._

_As soon as he registered the scene, Rudolphus attacked me, ripping me off Bellatrix and throwing me to the ground. He'd always been weaker than Bellatrix, but my vengeance clouded my judgment and my power. He disarmed me and let Bellatrix up. By then, the Polyjuice had worn off, and she was already healing, a neat trick for Voldemort's inner circle._

_Together they overpowered me, chaining me to my own bloody wall. Bellatrix wanted to kill me, to torture me to death, but fearing Voldemort's wrath if they killed his pet potions brewer, Rudolphus managed to stay her hand. He left the room so there would be no witness, and she tried to destroy me. _

_Grasping me in one hand she transfigured her wand into a dagger and tried to castrate me. Luckily the charm I'd placed earlier was still active, and the dagger could only dig at the skin, finally sliding off and dragging the scar up and across my lower back._

_She laughed as I stayed chained to the wall, fearing I'd bleed to death. Back then I was the victim, but once I healed, I vowed never again to accept punishment._

_I would only give it._

end flashback

Hermione stood stock still as Severus finished his story. He really hadn't been like her, it wasn't a choice for him. Bellatrix had turned Severus into what he was, standing there before her.

And she was just perpetuating the dead witch's abuse.

"Severus, I don't think we should do that anymore. Not if that's how you came into that culture. I don't want to let her continue to hold you," Hermione said, even though her thoughts were the polar opposite: _If that's how he got those tastes, so what? It is what you both want. . . Nothing wrong with that. Besides, you're helping him to do what he likes, and he isn't hurting you. Aren't you supposed to supplicate yourself to what he likes? _a niggling little voice said in her head, and she shivered at the implications. As much as she wanted to be noble, she wanted what he could offer more.

"Before you start thinking about being noble and cutting me off, I can assure you that I already liked those things. You could. . . thank Bellatrix for shoving them to the forefront, though. I would never hurt you, and if you want to stop that, then I will. But don't leave me alone, and don't think that you're perpetuating her tortures," Severus said, and even though he wasn't using Legilimency, he knew that was what she'd been thinking.

"And it was only after this that Albus came to you, offering you a way out?" Hermione said, putting aside her fear and shame.

"Yes. And as much as I. . . admire him, I think it was what he was waiting for. He needed me to break so he could offer me a way to fix myself. Lucky for you, though, he didn't 'fix' everything," Severus said, walking towards her, his arms at his sides. "I don't think I need fixing, and I don't think you do, either. And I know that I won't find that anywhere else. I think you know that, too."

Hermione closed her eyes as she felt his arms come around her, holding her as she wept for the sheer loss of innocence he'd had to go through, angry that he beloved Headmaster had waited so long to help him. It never occurred to her that Dumbledore had his reasons, convoluted and twisted as they seemed at times.

Severus led her back to a couch, sitting down and pulling her onto his lap so he could hold her. He could feel the tears in his own throat, but he refused to let them overcome him. He had questions to ask her, and he wanted to be able to ask them without choking over his own sorrow.

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Hermione cried softly for a while, tension easing out of her while she sobbed over the wasted time and anger. Severus just held her, not asking anything of her, not angry, just accepting. She'd never have thought that way about him when she was younger; well, not until she'd dance with him and he'd save her from the Slytherins that had meant her harm. He was anchoring her while absorbing all her hurt and pain, blaming himself when there was nothing to blame, not really. They were learning about one another, and it was inevitable that they hurt each other once in a while.

But she'd hurt him so deeply. She knew then, drying her eyes and looking into his stoic face, his eyes so green they were black wells of pain that she couldn't keep anything from him, especially not herself. And certainly not a secret, as much as she hated that exposed feeling.

"Hermione, I want to know about the night that you ran out on me. I want to know why you left, why you were crying, and what set it all off," Severus said flatly. He felt for her, but he wanted answers. She made him give it up; it was only fair that she share as well.

"You'll be sorry you asked, Severus," Hermione tried to joke. "It really is nothing worth mentioning."

"If it is nothing worth mentioning, why did you bother to tell me it wasn't worth mentioning?"

He had her there. _If it is important enough to cover up, it is too important to cover up_, a little voice told her.

"To be honest, the idea of children scares me. And don't you laugh at me, Severus," Hermione gave him a pre-emptive scolding.

"Is that all, Hermione? I would never try to get you pregnant against your will. Plenty of women are scared of rearing children, labor, or both. But why did you run from me?" Severus said, his face serious, though his eyes weren't as flat as before.

"Because you are going to want children someday, now that the war is over and you've survived. I don't know that I want children at all. And once you realize that I may not want them, you're going to leave, going off to find a witch who will bear children for you. It isn't just labor that I'm afraid of; I don't know that I'm cut out to rear children, even with the help of a husband," Hermione said miserably. There, it was said, and if he wanted to leave, he could do it now and maybe he wouldn't ever know how in love she was with him. He could leave and maybe Hermione could find a job elsewhere, or go to the Ministry, or just find a nice man who didn't want kids, either.

Severus's voice caught in his throat. What could he say to that? He did occasionally feel that he wanted children; he'd loved Draco as a son, and he knew that if he'd been Draco's father, the boy would have been different. But then Severus wouldn't be with Hermione, either, and that was not acceptable. Yet through it all, Severus knew she was more important than anything else; if he lost her, it didn't matter. His life would be over he'd exist without living, no matter what he tried to fill the void with.

"Hermione, leaving you, living without you those are unacceptable to me. I don't know that I want children either, and I never even thought about it until I met you. I was a spy who never knew if he'd survive one meeting to the next. But you have no siblings, and you always spent so much time with the Weasleys why don't you want a family of your own?"

Hermione snorted, a very unladylike action for her. "My parents were very, very clear about the fact that I was a 'surprise'. My mother in particular wanted me to know that I was not a happy surprise, and my father was too wrapped up in her to make up for what she couldn't give me. I fear I would love my husband or lover too much to treat my children the way they ought to be treated."

_Quite the confession_, Severus thought, shivering at the thought of a young Hermione thinking she was unwanted and a mistake, coming between her parents. _But surely Arthur and Molly showed her differently._

"But all the time you spent with the Weasleys. Surely that taught you otherwise?"

"Harry and Ginny ran to the US because she's pregnant and Harry doesn't want the children to have the life he did they aren't coming back until the kids are ready for Hogwart's. And Ron well, Ron left because I won't give him the family he grew up with."

Severus growled low in his throat, shifting until Hermione grabbed his arm to calm him. _Weasley had thrown her away because she refused to be a broodmare! Stupid git. . . but his loss is my gain, in the end,_ Severus thought to himself.

"What did he say about the matter, Hermione?" Severus said evenly, trying to keep his voice from rising.

"That he knew we'd have a brood just like his parents, all redheaded and smart and top quidditch players, and Gryffindors. He said that I just have to think about things, work through this 'idea' that I don't want to have children, and then I can come back and he'll marry me then. But I'm starting to think that it isn't much of a marriage if those are his conditions. They are so much for me, but kids seem to be par for the course for him."

"Did you tell him that?"

"What do you think? I'm here, not there, so what does it matter, whatever he or I said about the matter?"

Severus scowled darkly. She was closing up, shutting down the part of her that should be with Ron. He needed to know what had happened, to understand why Ron had thrown her away.

"What did he say, Hermione?"

"Nothing."

"Bugger it. Don't make me enter your mind to find out for myself."

Hermione paled. She swallowed hard, and Severus sighed, closing his eyes and relaxing so he could ease out of his mind and into hers.

"NO! He said that if I didn't know now, I'd never know. And if I couldn't say yes now, it meant I wouldn't be a good mother, even when I finally decided to have children."

Severus caught Hermione's chin in his hand. She looked at him and the tears were gone, replaced by a grave anger.

"I would be a good mother, Severus, I swear it on . . . I don't know, but I know that I would do right by my own children. They wouldn't feel the way I do," Hermione was angry, and loud, and she was shaking as he held her.

"I know. But you don't have to prove it, you know. That's part of being strong, Hermione. Knowing something, and wanting to show you know it, but not just showing someone to spite him," Severus said softly, wrapping his arms around Hermione and leaning her back.

"I wouldn't do something like that to spite Ron," Hermione said, her voice quiet as Severus began to kiss her neck. _His favorite way to help is always going to be sex_, a sing-song-y goody-two-shoes voice said in a scolding manner. _And I'm always going to let him_, answered the horned voice.

"But you would sleep with me to spite him, and Oliver, and whoever sent Oliver after you," Severus said, moving the collar of her shirt so he could see the mounds of her breasts over her bra.

"No. I 'sleep' with you because you're damned sexy and I l love you," she said, murmuring into his glossy black hair as he plucked her nipples through her lacy white bra, peaking them until Hermione's eye were dark, molasses colored orbs.

"Good to know. I love. . . that about you," Severus said, choking a bit as he couldn't say what he felt at that moment. He felt dirty after his confession, and he knew he needed her fire to burn him till he was clean again.

"Now we get to have hot, monkey makeup sex?" Hermione inquired, her voice husky and her body moving against his.

"Yes. Now we get to have hot monkey makeup sex."

"Can I be on top?"

"Never!"

"Fine by me."

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**AN: Nope, no hot monkey makeup sex in this chapter. . . that's why I need 7 reviews for the next one, where they _really _make things right between themselves, just before they have to go to Oliver's trial.**

**I know I'm evil for holding chapters hostage, but at one point I was reading a story that had over 300 reviews. I just want to get to 100 and more. Is that too much to ask (makes pouty face). Can you all tell I need lots of praise and adoration? I guess I'm insecure like that.**

**7 reviews happy, horny author hot monkey makeup sex scene! (I promise)**

**BTW: my boyfriend and I have an account on this site and at hp. under the penname lovers1025; you can search for our story by title, Copper Fades to Gold. This one feature Hermione and an original character with a twist. Check it out and review much!**


	12. Making Love and Making Up

**disclaimer: nope, don't own Harry Potter, don't make any money off of the series, and even if I did, would I tell you?**

**Dedication: MrsHermioneSeverusSnape, my first reviewer. Sorry this took so long to get out, but I had to refine things. And I found this very HOT, so that always makes me want to wait a day so I can edit it, if need be.**

**Y'all know the drill: 5 reviews next chapter**

**And what am I going to do with Oliver?**

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**Chapter 11: Making Up and Making Love**

Severus put his hand on Hermione's wrists and gently guided her back against the length of the couch. Once she was completely horizontal, Severus leaned back from her, crouching next to the couch as he studied her. He let his head rest on her thigh for a moment while he caught his breath. He pulled it back up to look at her.

"Do you know how truly exquisite you are, my dear?" Severus asked, and Hermione saw something akin to pain in his eyes. He took one of her small hands in his large ones and rubbed it against his face, turning so his nose nestled into her palm. He inhaled deeply and she could feel the relief wash over him. "Sometimes, I think, too exquisite for me."

"Severus," Hermione breathed, trying to sit up, to comfort him. He took her other hand and looked into her eyes, the deep pools of black drawing her in. He sighed as she gazed into his eyes. "What we do to each other."

Severus gave her a crooked smile. "What, have you forgotten?"

"Erm," Hermione gulped, knowing what she'd set herself up for. A small voice said _This is what you asked for_, while a much larger voice said _FINALLY! Everyone is wearing far too many articles of clothing_. "Perhaps. But then again, Professor, you could show me what I've forgotten during our dry spell?"

"Gladly. Miss Granger," Severus said in a sing-song voice, standing and gathering her into his arms. She gasped at how he could just draw her up like so, and her heart raced. "I hope you've been keeping up on your studies."

"But you haven't been there to give a lesson in _so_ long," Hermione said, batting her eyelashes at the tall man as he carried her from the couch to his bedroom, kicking the door open. "My, this is just like those novels, isn't it?"

Severus groaned at the comparison and tried to glare at her. Instead, he spoke.

"Now, Miss Granger, there is something to be said in the interim between lessons for, ahem, _independent study_, and as such a diligent student, I expect you kept up on that?"

Hermione blushed profusely at his implication. Surely he wouldn't ask her to show him how she. . . how she

"Severus, how could you imply something like that?!" Hermione said, trying to twist out of his arms. "Such a suggestion."

"The lady dost protest too much," Severus said, reaching the bed, "And besides, I can always use Legilimency to pull the memories from you if showing me in person is too much."

Hermione thought about that as Severus laid her gently on the bed. It was so soft, but she thought he really _was_ wearing too much clothing. He reached down and deftly pulled her robes from her body, leaving the poor, beleaguered shirt he'd been playing around earlier. Leaving that, her stripped her of her skirt and shoes and pulled the elastics out of her hair so the waves spread out over the pillows and spread. Lastly, he removed her shirt, leaving her in her bra, panties, and stockings and garters. His eyes seemed to glaze over at the site of those feminine undergarments.

"I wish I could I thank the person that invented these," Severus breathed as he ran a hand over her stocking-covered leg, stopping at the garter clasps before heading down the other leg to her foot. He watched her for a reaction as he pulled her panties away, down those legs and off her. "And I plan on thanking you for wearing these _over_ those."

Hermione had closed her eyes, not being able to stand the intense scrutiny he was subjecting her to; when he'd agreed to 'hot monkey makeup sex', she thought they had the same definition. Obviously, she'd been wrong. She turned so her face was pressed into the pillow, her breath coming faster, and he was only watching her and gently touching, the lightest pressure on different areas of her body. She could smell his musk on the pillow, the spread, in the air she breathed. A gasp escaped her lips as she felt his mouth on her stomach, his teeth scraping lightly around her navel.

She shivered as his tongue whirled over her navel, and suddenly his tongue was in her navel, playing with it as he would play with her, short, hard licks followed by a bite and a few long, soft strokes. She grabbed his hair and tried to move his head, but finally he pulled away and she felt his hands on either side of her head, turning her so she faced him.

"Naughty, naughty, little one. I thought I was supposed to be in charge?" Severus said, his grip like iron on her face. A delicious fear swept through her, and he inhaled deeply, smelling it, tasting it, letting it ignite the fire that had been waiting to be let out. "I think you know what that means, Miss Granger."

Hermione squirmed a bit, letting the game take hold, her eyes hot on his, fire burning strong and deep. She tried to wriggle away, and Severus responded by climbing up on the bed in his shirt and trousers, leaning over her and gently grinding his erection against her mound.

"Tell me what it means, Miss Granger," Severus said, smiling at her discomfort. She was embarrassed, but once she passed that point, once he broke through that barrier with her, there would be no going back, and they would never again have that misunderstanding. "Surely you've . . . studied."

Hermione stilled, letting Severus bring his face down to hers in a deep kiss, her mouth involuntarily opening to his. Tracing his tongue around her lips, Severus thrust his tongue into her mouth, and she bit him. Chuckling, Severus pulled back and looked into her eyes.

"Hm, I guess you do need a refresher, don't you, Hermione?" Severus said, closing his eyes. He lowered his mouth to hers again, but this time, he kept just out of her reach. She glared at him and her eyes sparked. He gave her a sympathetic smile and leaned closer, but still out of her reach. She growled and tried to wrest herself from his grip, but he just chuckled. "Lesson one: the kiss. One must never seem too eager, lest her prey see it as weakness."

Hermione tried to play innocent and patient, but it obviously didn't work. After a few minutes, Severus gave up.

"You win. Hot makeup sex this time. But next time. . . " he trailed off, and the heat in her belly made her groan. Severus quickly rid himself of his clothing, sliding over her so all she could see was translucent, scarred skin. "You may touch the scars, if it would comfort you."

His eyes were closed to keep his pain from her, but she already knew him too well for that to work for very long. Hermione reached down and cupped him in her hands, his length too much for one of her small hands. She stroked softly, then with increasing pressure until he was thrusting against her hand. Severus swiftly brought his mouth down on hers, thrusting his tongue into her mouth as he drew one of his hands down to test her, stroking and petting, letting her open for him. He didn't want to hurt her, not very much. Just enough to sate them both. They continued like this until both were quite out of breath, but not over the edge.

"Hermione, I can't take this much longer," Severus said, his voice hoarse with control, as he tried to keep his hips from their instinctive movement. He was ready for her, and she was waiting for him, but he couldn't do that yet. She had to break the threshold, let him completely. He kissed his way down her body until he rested above her navel, giving it a few loving licks before he moved onto his true destination.

"Severus," she whispered, trying to push him away. It would only take the word to stop him, but even then she couldn't bring herself to say it; she wanted what he was offering, and she had to let him force her into it, lest she never have the chance again. She gasped as his tongue probed deep, deeper than before, and she knew he had plans for her. She'd managed to pull him away earlier, but he had locked his arms around her thighs, and she could only raise herself up on her elbows to watch him. "'s too much. . . "

Severus chuckled against her, amused by her modesty. She would thank him for this, sometime. He sent out a probing thought, using his wandless magic, and suddenly she was leaning up on her elbows, watching him against her better judgment.

"Watch, my dear, and see how I love to make you feel so good," Severus said as he twirled his tongue around that sweet spot, using short hard strokes to elicit the moans he needed to hear from her. After what seemed an eternity, he bit that nub, and the pain was such that she screamed in her pleasure, the pain blurring into that red plain where pain was pleasure and pleasure pain. She screamed his name as he reared up over her, shoving himself inside her with a roar, so big she thought he'd split her in two, such a sweet rhythm she thought she'd die from the joy of it.

"Never," _shove_ "let" _thrust_ "you" _shove _"go" _thrust_ "Mine!" Severus shouted hoarsely, thrusting one last time, creaming her until she felt their combined essences spilling out, saturating the bed beneath them. "I love you."

Hermione smiled as she drifted into sweet unconsciousness. He loved her, and she knew it, even if he'd never say it again.

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**Short, I know. But I promised you sex, and you got it. Next chapter will be more plot-related, and could continue like that for a while. We'll see how it goes.**

**5 reviews next chapter**

**Ladykyo**

**Brenna, of the separatesisters**


	13. A Morning Missive

**disclaimer: nope, don't own Harry Potter, don't make any money off of the series, and even if I did, would I tell you?**

**Y'all know the drill: 5 reviews next chapter**

**This chapter is dedicated to . . . yne-chan! Obrigada, minha irma; eu gosto ter 'reviews' da voce! **

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**Chapter 13: A Morning Missive **

Hermione woke up with a strange weight on her hip and an even stranger lightness in her chest. Opening first one eye and then the other, she took in a black pillow rising up in front of her, and a dark wooden post beyond that. She squeezed her eyes closed and took a breath before opening her eyes again, mentally crossing her fingers. When she opened her eyes again, she had to smile as she turned her head. Severus was asleep next to her, his eyes closed and his breathing light. His arm was slung over her chest, cupping her breast while his leg trapped hers. The covers were strewn about, and Hermione had nothing but a sheet to cover her. The sheet was slung low over his hips, and she could see the scars tracing around to his back. Stroking over the ridge, Hermione took in the sight of the dangerous potions master asleep, dead to the world and peaceful.

An insistent tapping at the lone window drew her attention. Hermione grasped the sheet and yanked, causing Severus to stir slightly, but not full wake. She smiled at his nakedness as she drew the sheet around her like a toga. She made her way to the window and reached up to open it. A stark white owl drifted in, extending a foot carrying a large parchment. Hermione took it and thanked the owl, turning around to find an owl treat when she heard the large bird flutter its wings and leave.

"Well, wasn't that rude?" Hermione mused as she broke the wax seal on the parchment, then set on the wards. Obviously it was meant for her to open only. "I guess it didn't need a reply."

She was quiet as her eyes scanned the letter. By the end, her eyes were wide and her breathing harsh. She shot a look over to Severus, who was still asleep, on his back, large hand over his stomach. Suddenly the sight infuriated her why the hell was he still asleep?! 

"Severus! Get up, we've an owl from the Ministry," Hermione said, loudly enough that the potions master bolted straight up in the bed, eyes flashing; she could feel the wandless shields locking into place.

"Hermione?" Severus asked stupidly, staring at sheet-garbed form. "Why are you wearing my sheet?"

"An owl was waiting for me when I woke. You should probably read this," Hermione said, thrusting the parchment at her lover.

Severus scanned the missive as he scowled, passing the letter back to her. He looked at Hermione thoughtfully for a moment before he spoke.

"You know, we can refuse to attend this, Hermione. The issue is out of your hands, anyway," Severus said, getting off the bed and rummaging through a drawer for some clothing. Coming up with a soft knit shirt and trousers, he pulled them on while Hermione chewed her lip. "If you do choose to attend, you will be under great scrutiny, which they will use against your. . . friend."

Hermione looked down at the summons one last time before she transfigured the sheet she was wearing. Satisfied with the long, plain black dress, Hermione scraped her hair back from her face and headed for the door.

Severus gaped at her as she trotted out the door.

"You're going to Oliver Wood's trial dressed like that?" He always thought she was beautiful, but the Ministry was no pla

"Of course not. But then again, would have preferred I walk back to my quarters wearing nothing but one of your sheets?"

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Severus had spoken with Minerva while Hermione went to her quarters to change. And he was ready to throttle the old woman.

"Minerva, Hermione and I are heading to the Ministry for Oliver Wood's trial. I don't assume we'll be back before the end of the day," Severus said, pacing the office while MacGonagall watched him with a bemused look on her face. "And I fear that I will be unable to plan the Ball. Between classes and the trial, as well as Hermione's. . . admirer, well, I'm sure you understand," Severus purred.

"Very well. I'll plan it myself, then. Off with you," the old woman said, and a very familiar twinkle winked at him from her eyes.

"Miserable old wench," Severus hissed as he left the room.

"Make sure you use your time. . . wisely. Wouldn't want your lady friend to outpace you too early, would you?"

Severus didn't answer that; he knew he'd say something too snarky, even for an old friend. Instead, he turned on his heel and headed for Hermione's quarters.

Minerva had to laugh at Severus's predicament. She knew she was pushing things, but Severus and Hermione were so stubborn she'd probably have to use dynamite by the end.

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Hermione was waiting for Severus in her rooms, rehearsing what she would say to the Wizengamot. Tell them Oliver was innocent, that he was being used, that he hadn't really hurt her. Get them to drop the charges, or at least to lessen them; perhaps he would just be put under house arrest for a bit instead of being sent to Azkaban. And she was annoyed at Severus for what he'd said. Of course she knew that she had to look the part when she stood before the Wizengamot. _What a git_, she thought.

Not that it stopped her from staring lamely first into her wardrobe and then into her mirror. She changed three times before she settled on a knee-length chocolate brown skirt, camel-coloured cashmere sweater, and low heels. She deftly plaited her hair to keep it out of her face. She swept light makeup over her face and fastened small silver studs in her ears.

"Simplicity is best," she said to herself, deciding against any more jewelry for the day. It hurt, considering that she had a few pieces she wore daily. She turned around to see Severus watching her.

He was resplendent in all his Slytherin glory, fit black trousers and frock coat over a crisp, shiny black shirt. New _those must be new_ robes hung over his arm. The frock coat was buttoned almost to the top, leaving only a bit of the black shirt to her view, but even that wasn't buttoned all the way yet and she was getting a nice glimpse of the pale column of his neck. Having never been mesmerized by _neck_ before, Hermione blushed and turned away.

_How silly am I? Blushing because my lover is showing neck?_ Hermione thought, trying not to giggle at the idea. She smiled and approached Severus carefully, trying to exude confidence, even though she was nervous about going to the Ministry. _At least he hasn't said anything snarky yet._

"Are you quite ready, my dear? And please, no vampiric antics while we are at the Ministry. Wouldn't want them to lock you up as well. But if you are so inclined, perhaps later. . . " Severus trailed off, smirking at Hermione's blush. "Afraid you might like it?"

"Hush up!" Hermione hissed at him, grabbing his arm and dragging him out of her quarters and into the hall, locking up with a charm behind her. "How exactly are you planning on us getting to the Ministry, by the way?"

Severus pulled something from his pocket and tapped it with his wand, whispering 'Engorgio'. A broom expanded in his hand, and Hermione paled. She looked from the wand to Severus's smiling eyes.

"In case you missed the whole thing with Oliver, I really don't fly," Hermione said, a sickly green pallor taking her over.

"in case you missed the fact that only produced one broom, I will be doing the flying. You are going to be a passenger, and I will keep you safe over the trip," Severus said, letting the broomtips rest on the floor as he leaned on the haft. "you can even close your eyes the entire trip. Minerva doesn't want us to apparate from here when we can manage it, and even if she wasn't so inclined, we can't apparate into the Ministry without strict invitation."

"But we were invited, Severus," Hermione said, still staring at the broom.

"To the Ministry, but not to apparate into it. Believe me, there is quite a difference, and the last thing we or Oliver needs is for us to be charged with invading the Ministry."

"You can't be serious."

"Do you want to run the risk that this is a joke?" Severus quirked an eyebrow and Hermione sighed. She shook her head and took the arm he offered, casting a last glance around the corridor.

"Where are all the students? It is eerily quiet," she remarked, looking around.

"Guilty conscience? I'd say they're in class. Must have seemed busier when you lot were sneaking around during your stay at school, afraid anyone and everyone would turn you in for skiving off when you were supposed to be in class," Severus said, relishing her newest blush.

"Very funny. Can we go now? I want to be on and off that broom as quickly as possible. And I doubt they'll let us in once the trial starts, let alone hold it off until we arrive," Hermione said, as he led her down the hall and towards the nearest exit. Once outside, Severus shook Hermione off his arm so he could hold the broom steady, and she stuck her tongue out at him.

"Can you be childish later, Hermione? I'm trying to make sure we get to the Ministry in time," Severus smirked.

Hermione continued to stick her tongue out at him until he mounted the broom and plucked her off the ground, settling her before him on the broom and locking an arm around her waist. She shrieked as he kicked off, rising above the grounds and heading for the Ministry. She only dared open her eyes when she had turned around to see his face, and it surprised her; he was actually enjoying himself while doing something relatively normal.

Severus's hair was flying away from them in the wind, whipping around his face. A huge, wolfish smile was on his face, and Hermione marveled at the idea that the Slytherin seemed to love flying so much. It wasn't something she would have expected, to say the least.

She snuggled against his chest, turning her face so it was protected from the chill wind by his bulk, and sighed. He was constantly surprising her, and she was sure that at some point, he would do something so surprising that she would have a heart attack.

_And then he'll be angry about that, too. 'Can't I even surprise you without you making it into a huge show?' I can hear him now,_ Hermione giggled at the thought, and Severus looked down for a moment to quirk an eyebrow at her. She smiled sweetly and closed her eyes, daydreaming about them being together for a long, long time.

The day dream ended when they arrived outside the Ministry.

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**5 reviews next chapter**


	14. The Trial

**disclaimer: nope, don't own Harry Potter, don't make any money off of the series, and even if I did, would I tell you?**

**Y'all know the drill: 5 reviews next chapter**

**This chapter is dedicated to . . . DanniV! Thanks for all the wonderful reviews. . . They make writing worthwhile!**

**BTW: I have a new homepage set up. Check out my profile for the URL, and I'll see you there!**

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**Chapter 14: Oliver's Trial and Snape's Testimony**

It was chaos outside the Ministry. Wizards and witches milled around the entrance, solidified into two groups: pro-Wood and anti-Wood. The pro-Wood group was shouting nasty things, accusing Hermione of leading the poor man on, promising him things and withholding them until she'd driven him nuts. The anti-Wood group was shouting just as loudly, saying that he was a dirty man who would do anything to have his appetites sated as they had been during his time in the pro Quidditch league. Hermione covered her ears and dashed into the Ministry with Severus at her side, trying to shield her from the insults being hurled at her.

As soon as they got inside, the doors slammed shut and warded behind them. An attendant was waiting for them, looking somewhat worse for the wear. She gave the couple a weary smile as she spoke.

"We've been waitin' for ya," the girl said, stepping aside so Severus and Hermione could straighten themselves up. "They've been trying to get in all morning, you know. If you know the way to the courtroom, I can stay here and reinforce the wards keeping the hordes out."

"Thank you; I think that's best as well," Hermione said, patting the dust out of her skirt.

"Just so you know, I don't think any of this is any of your fault. Not that I blame Ollie, though," the girl blushed, and Hermione shared a look with Severus at the girl's reaction at Oliver's name. "It just isn't somethin' 'e'd do, y'know? But I also know that you hain't done it, ei'ver."

"Thank you. Have you seen Oliver, miss. . . " Hermione trailed off, waiting for the girl's name.

"Tobin, miss, Tobin MacCair. I'm in training to be an Auror, like Harry Potter and R" the girl blushed harder. Hermione sighed almost silently. She nodded.

"You should try to speak with Nymphadora Tonks next time you get leave. Come to Hogwart's, and you can visit all of us me, Tonks, Remus Lupin, and even Oliver," Hermione said, wincing at the squeeze Severus gave her hand when she left him out. "And even Severus, here, if you're so inclined."

"Thanks, miss. I'll owl you soon. Good luck at the trial!" Tobin said as Hermione and Severus headed for the trial. Hermione hoped they didn't need too much luck. She was hoping the Wizengamot would wise up sometime soon.

**555555555555**

Percy Weasley had managed to weasel his way up to being head of the Wizengamot. Out of all the Weasleys, Percy was the lone ferret, in Hermione's opinion. She knew that he'd been cleared of all accusations that had been brought against him in the war, but she still didn't trust him. Especially when it cam to the trial of a friend of the family's, a family he'd purposely distanced himself from.

They had apparently been waiting for Hermione and Severus, as the trial room's door slammed shut and locked itself behind them. The sound of the wards sliding into place was ominous, and as they approached the left side of the room, where they had been directed to sit in the letter, Hermione saw her friend locked into the chair reserved for the accused.

"Hermione, you must steel yourself for the proceedings. Things can get. . . messy. And not everyone survives their acquittal," Severus whispered as they settled into their seats. She swallowed and nodded, and turned her attention to Percy as the trial began.

**555555555555**

"The accused before us is none other than the former Puddlemere United Quidditch star, Oliver Tarquinis Wood. He has been serving as flying professor and quidditch sponsor at Hogwart's School for Witchcraft and Wizardry. That is not, however, why he is here before us today, my fellow members of the Wizengamot. He is accused of kidnapping a fellow professor, namely Hermione Granger, war and Auror hero from the Great War, assault, and attempted. . . rape," Percy said in his characteristically pompous voice. Severus wanted to throttle him. He didn't like Wood himself, but Weasley was going out of his way to make sure that his former classmate would be found guilty.

"Oliver was always more popular than Percy," Hermione hissed as Percy continued pontificating. "They should never have left Percy in charge of this trial!"

Severus put a long finger to his lips to silence her, and both returned their attention to Percy and his barely veiled insults.

"And so, I am advocating a stay in Azkaban, no longer than 3 months, ending in a Dementor's kiss. Obviously, this. . . man. . . has been a good enough actor that his own victim is fooled by his 'change in heart'. Auror Tonks, you did say that Miss Granger didn't want charges brought against Wood?" Percy said, and Tonks, who had been unnoticed before, nodded miserably. She'd thought mentioning that would help the Wizengamot understand that it hadn't been Oliver's fault.

"But I think she's right, Percy," Tonks said, and Percy gave her a venomous glare for using his given name. "Sir."

"But no-one has brought evidence of an Imperius curse or even a strange control potion before us, Auror Tonks," Penelope Clearwater-Weasley spoke. As Percy's wife, she'd also made her way through the Ministry ranks. And just like Percy, she was arrogant and bitter.

"I have brought evidence to attest to Professor Wood's innocence," Severus stood, and the entire gallery turned to look at him. Hermione gaped at him. She thought she was supposed to speak; she hadn't been expecting Severus to jump in like that. "I have evidence that shows that Professor Wood was not acting under his right mind at the time of the incident, and that he was under someone else's control."

"Very well. Step forward and bring the evidence with you," Percy said viciously. He hadn't been expecting that, either, but luckily the Wizengamot was bound to hear all evidence that could be presented.

Severus produced the results of their little experience and explained about _'aqua negra'_. The room was in an uproar, and Severus stood in the maelstrom, inserting his body between Oliver and the witches and wizards that were screaming and shouting their outrage. Oliver picked his head up just enough to give Hermione a weak smile before he drooped in the chair again.

"How are we to know that you haven't made this up?" Percy said, trying to regain control of the trial. In his short career only a few trials had actually found the accused guilty, and Percy looked quite bad for it.

"I saw him spit up the black water!" Tonks said, rising out of her chair.

"I helped Severus run the tests against the substance it is black water. We need to be more concerned about who gave Oliver the potion and how they learned how to make it," Hermione interjected, shooting to her feet and coming round the gallery to stand next to Severus.

"How do you suppose we do that, Miss Granger? I would suppose that black water would keep the recipient from telling who gave it to him," Penelope added, coming to stand next to her husband.

"That's why you need a skilled Legilimens to open those memories to you. Luckily, I brought Severus with me," Hermione said triumphantly, earning a glare from Severus. "There is a way for the Legilimens to act as a conduit from the person with the memory to a pensieve. Oliver couldn't tell us, and couldn't access the memory on his own, but Severus can pull them out. With Oliver's permission, of course.

Percy nodded, and his face took on a sickly green cast as Severus nodded and turned to Oliver. He summoned a pensieve and placed it next to the younger man, waiting for a signal.

"Go ahead, Professor," Oliver said weakly. Severus would enjoy finding out who had mistreated the poor boy to this point, and he wondered if Hermione had not been exaggerating but rather sugarcoating the way her friend had been treated during his imprisonment.

"This is an empty pensieve. I will place my wand at Professor Wood's temple and transfer the memory through my wand and body to the pensieve. After the ordeal, Professor Wood will most likely fall unconscious. If Auror Tonks and Professor Granger would be so kind as to come down here, they may help him out of the chair once Professor Wood loses consciousness," Severus said, rolling up his sleeves and grasping his wand firmly in his left hand and placing his right into the pensieve, palm down and fingers spread. The ladies came to stand on either side of Oliver, and the process began.

It took the better part of an hour to draw the memories into the pensieve, as Severus was trying hard to keep from drawing anything out that was personal but not pertinent. There were memories of quite a few fantasies that he would have to speak to Wood about later, because they included Severus's own paramour. Oliver passed out soon after the process started, which actually made it easier for Severus to find what he needed; while he'd been awake, Oliver had been unconsciously trying to 'help' Severus find the correct memories.

"Done. And done," Severus said, removing his wand from Oliver's temple and his hand from the pensieve. Tonks and Hermione removed what was holding Oliver in the chair and laid him out on some cloaks they'd gathered, so he could rest. "All that remains is for us to peer into his memories and see who gave him the potion. Mr. Weasley, should you care to go first?"

Percy glared at Severus as he tapped his wand on the pensieve, making it broadcast the memories.

Oliver's memories

_The Hog's Head. Oliver is sitting in a both with an attractive and somewhat familiar young woman, but that isn't important. A drink arrives at the table, one for each, actually, and the barmaid tells Oliver that a friend sent it, and once they are ready to leave for the night, to stop by the corner of the counter for a chat. _

_Oliver looks up, but no-one he recognizes sits at the counter. The barmaid leaves, and he decides to down the drink anyway. His stomach turns sour on him, and his date helps him to the door of the men's room. She tries to help more, but he waves her off with a sick smile, and she leaves as he enters the restroom._

_As he stumbles to a cracked toilet, Oliver starts retching. Nothing comes up. He even sticks his fingers down his throat, but nothing comes up. Finally, in his misery, Oliver stumbles out of the restroom and trips into the main room. A tall man stands over him and offers a hand up. As their hands touch, Oliver felt the nausea disappear. The tall man wore a hood, and dirty blonde hair peeked out from it, framing a face with cold green eyes and a sadistic smile._

_"Look at me, Oliver Tarquinis Wood. The sickness has gone away because you've come to me; give me your other hand," the man said, and Oliver began to recognize him. Horrified, Oliver saw his hand move up to be grasped. "It is complete. You are mine, and you will not tell anyone of this meeting. Get me Hermione Granger, unscathed, and perhaps I will release you from this bondage."_

_Helpless, Oliver stood and nodded, the sickness gone to be replaced by an urge, an uncontrollable desire to win the trust and heart of Hermione Granger, to bring her to this man._

_"You will bring her to me, here, when you have her. I'll know when you have her, and I'll know if you fail."_

_The man was gone almost instantly, and Oliver was left standing with a foolish grin on his face. He couldn't wait to see Hermione, and to be with her._

_And he had no clue why._

end Oliver's memory

"Obviously, Oliver is innocent," Hermione said, and Tonks nodded her agreement. Percy and Penelope shared a look, and whispers ran through the rest of the Wizengamot. Severus waited, trying not to collapse from the strain of it all. Hermione noticed it and came to stand next to him, touching him almost imperceptibly, lending her strength. They had almost won when Percy spoke.

"_Obviously_ the accused still performed the actions, though he was under control. We cannot allow him to go completely unpunished this day, else his safety cannot be assured when he reaches the crowd," Percy said, and Hermione's heart fell. This wasn't

"So we are remanding Oliver Tarquinis Wood to your custody, Professor Snape, and putting him under house arrest for no longer than one week," Penelope said, and Hermione and Severus stared at her, as did Percy.

"We are?" Percy said stupidly.

"Yes. We are," Penelope said, and agreement rang out through the tribunal. "You may take Mr. Wood with you now, as you have my permission to apparate away from the Ministry for this express purpose. You, as well, Tonks, and take Remus with you," she added, jerking her thumb towards a poorly-disguised Remus Lupin, who'd been sitting in the very back, trying to look like a Scribe.

"Thank you," Hermione said, addressing the Wizengamot. "But we have one more request."

"You do?" Percy said, his color turning red. "You've already gotten your toy out of trouble, what else can we do for you?"

Hermione leveled a stare at the Weasley, and he shut up. "I want free range to catch the person who did this to Oliver, and to me."

Percy nodded. "Fine. Now leave."

With that, the motley crew apparated away with a series of pops, and the Wizengamot was left on its own. Percy hung his head, and Penelope wrapped her arms around his waist.

"The next trial will go better. But perhaps you should concern yourself more with justice than conviction rates."

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**Oh, no, I di-n't. Yah, alright, I did. I wanted to make it clear here that Oliver is really being punished too harshly simply because he was coerced into doing what he did. The house arrest is to appease the public who adore Hermione because of her helping Harry in the FB. **

**You know how it goes. 5 reviews new chapter. I would also appreciate some feedback on how this story should end. Let me know where this should go, and I promise to consider each opinion (should they marry? have kids? never marry? no kids? run off into the sunset?)**

**And I'll see you in the reviews pages!**

**ladykyo**

**Brenna, of the separatesisters**


	15. Back To School

**disclaimer: nope, don't own Harry Potter, don't make any money off of the series, and even if I did, would I tell you?**

**This chapter is dedicated to . . . WannBeArtist!**

**5 reviews new chapter**

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**Chapter 15: Back to School!**

Oliver's week of house arrest passed without incident. As Severus was in charge of his confinement, and didn't want to teach flying lessons himself, Oliver still performed in his official capacity. By the end of the week, Hermione had not one but three owls from Tobin MacCair. She smiled as she recognized the small barn owl that belonged to Tobin, winging its way through the Great Hall, over the students heads, and landing in front of Oliver.

"Hullo, Mealey!" Hermione said as the owl preened while Oliver read Tobin's letter. "Does your mistress want to come here?"

Olive blushed and shook his head before he realized that Hermione was referring to Mealey's owner, not the love-struck girl form the Ministry.

"So, did Tobin help you while you were confined at the Ministry?" Hermione said, her interest piqued. Severus put down the issue of 'Potions Gits Weekly' or whatever he was reading down so he could listen better. "Did she feed you ickle bits of food?"

"Hermione. Stop that. Are you the one that invited Tobin here?" Oliver said, folding his letter and sliding it under his plate.

"Perhaps. She wants to learn more about how Tonks and I became Aurors," Hermione offered. "And I figured that an extra mind wouldn't hurt in the hunt for your puppeteer. Besides, she was there with you when he slipped you the potion."

"Hermione, perhaps I would rather she not be here simply because of that. She could be a target, too," Oliver said, annoyed. He didn't often get annoyed with Hermione, so he obviously cared for the younger girl.

"I'm sorry, Oliver. But it can't be helped. She's already been invited, and I won't turn her away. And if you want to keep her safe, she couldn't be safer anywhere else," Hermione said softly, and Oliver nodded.

"I know. But I'm still angry that you did this without my consent."

"I know. Guess we all need to get to class, then. See you at dinner, Oliver," Hermione said, getting out of her seat.

"Won't you be here for lunch?" Oliver asked, stunned by her demeanor.

"No. Severus and I are having lunch in the labs. So we can find a way to trace the potion."

With that, Hermione left the hall for her classroom, praying that her students would behave without too much tooth-pulling.

**55555555555**

Phantasma Lestrange was getting on Hermione's nerves. The girl was too clever, and too . . . something. Hermione couldn't put her finger on it, but the girl chilled her. From her changeable eyes to coquettish mannerisms, the girl would be trouble, no matter what.

"Phantasma, I have a project for you. It involves working with a classmate. I've noticed that while your written assignments are of a high caliber, your practical maneuvers are lacking. I've arranged for you to study with Tonks and Wally Longbottom. She'll teach you to duel and help you hone your skills," Hermione said, and she knew in her heart that she was doing that to get the unsettling girl out of her hair.

"Yes, mud I mean, Professor Granger," Phantasma dropped a bare curtsy and trotted out, leaving Hermione wanting to smack her.

"I think you need something to eat, my dear," Severus's silky voice flooded Hermione head, and she groaned. He liked to invade her mind whenever possible, from summoning her to his chambers to making naughty comments during staff meetings. Tonks and Minerva seemed to enjoy her responses, but Remus just looked sympathetic.

Hermione threw things into her bag and left her classroom, charming the doors locked after herself as she made her way to the labs in the dungeons.

**555555555555**

Severus was bent over a cauldron when Hermione arrived. She dropped her bag and crept up beside him, wrapping her arms around his waist. She inhaled his musky, male scent, and thanked whatever gods there were that she had him. She wasn't sure when she'd decided she wasn't ever leaving him, but it must have been recently. Or perhaps it was during that first dance. It didn't matter to her.

Severus stirred the contents of the cauldron and sighed, giving himself over to her embrace. He wanted to protect her, to keep her safe and away from the world, away from all the prying eyes and loose lips. Make her his, take her to his family manor. He just had to wait until she was ready.

"Severus, what is this potion supposed to do?" Hermione said, peering into the cauldron.

"Wolfsbane, for Remus. I can't think of any mere potion that could help us find Oliver's puppeteer. Other than the one that told us what potion was controlling him," Severus said, savoring the feel of her arms around him, her hands reaching up and kneading his shoulders and back. "I decided that making a useful potion was better than wracking my brain for a potion that doesn't exist."

"How can a counter or tracer potion not exist?" Hermione said, concerned.

"Black water can only be countered by physically removing the potion. I don't know why the counter doesn't exist, or why there is no tracer. But Hermione, the potion itself isn't supposed to exist. I think we have to study his memories and glean what we can from them," Severus said, turning in the embrace and holding her tight against himself.

"What do we do, other than that?"

"We wait."


	16. And How Shall We Pass the Time?

**disclaimer: nope, don't own Harry Potter, don't make any money off of the series, and even if I did, would I tell you?**

**this chapter is dedicated to . . . KK Duke! (w00t!)**

**5 reviews next chapter!**

**555555555555**

**Chapter 16: And How Shall We Pass the Time?**

Severus bottled the Wolfsbane and turned to his lover, taking in her slightly disheveled robes and wide smile. It was enough to make the corners of his own mouth quirk, and he felt that tug again. He knew he'd told her once, but to use the words again. . . would that cheapen them? Could he even bring himself to say them again, without the passion to distract her from how thoroughly she'd ensnared him? Hermione continued her lovely assault on his back and shoulders, even from the odd angle of the embrace, and oddly, the voice of Albus Dumbledore rumbled through his mind.

_"Love is a terrible thing to waste, my boy. Mind you don't do it too often,"_ the old headmaster had said a few times, indicating his own clandestine love affair with a certain Scottish animagus. For some reason known only to Albus and Minerva themselves, they'd never come into the open with their own love, and Severus wondered for a moment if they'd ever married.

A decision was made that moment, one that would shape Severus and Hermione's life from that point onward.

"Hermione, did you hear what I said the other day?" Severus said, his voice low and velvety, a voice that would calm a child or ignite fire in a woman. Hermione smiled at him wickedly, drawing back a bit from their embrace to regard him better.

"Which thing? You do say an awful lot, love," Hermione said, teasing. She had an idea of where he was going, but she didn't want to lead him there, or make the wrong assumption. But a small part of her just wanted to hear the words again, feel the rush the affirmation would give her.

"I say an awful lot? This, from the most "

"Insufferable, know-it-all Gryffindor. I know. Continue," Hermione said, smiling, arms around him, eyes locked on his. _Say it, say it, say it, Severus. Don't back down now, tell me, tell me, so that I can leave this room happy. So you can leave this room happy today!_

"What I want to know is if you heard what I said the other day. When we were making love. And if you know how much I meant it?"

Hermione's smile turned watery, and she sighed greatly. She nodded and bent her head low, trying to keep from crying in her joy. This would have to do, for now. Her heart was screaming at her, but in her head she knew him: he loved her, and he knew it, he was acknowledging it, and she was breaking through that tough shell, breaking him open for herself. It was all she could do to not jump up and down in her glee, to shout for the joy of it.

"Hermione? Are you crying? This is not the reaction I was expecting, love. What's wrong?" Severus said, wrapping his arms tighter around her, trying to comfort her. Alarm was ringing in his head, but almost instinctively he knew that she was delighted, not dismayed.

Hermione shook her head, leaning into him. "I'm not upset, Severus. Trust me, these are happy tears. Strange, I know, but I'm so happy I am crying. I just . . . feel so much right now. You've done nothing wrong."

"If this is the reaction I get, then I'm never saying it again."

"Say what?"

"You know."

"But you could tell me again."

"Or I could leave it to your imagination."

"That has its possibilities. Hmm. . . " Hermione winked broadly at Severus, and he had the grace to blush.

"Stop that. Does it really mean that much to you?" Severus asked irritably.

"Well, Harry told me, Ron told me, and Ginny and the rest of the Weasleys. Even Viktor"

"Enough! I love you, you insufferable"

"Know-it-all Gryffindor. Been there, done that. And me, too, by the way."

"You, too what?"

"I love you, too, Severus. You big, greasy"

"Black bat. Now, where were we. . . "

**555555555555**

_**Meanwhile, down in Hogsmead. . . **_

"Are you sure you weren't followed, my dear?" a figure in a black coat said to a young girl sitting across from him in a small booth in a shady tavern on the dodgy end of Hogsmead.

"Of course not, dear. Now, since your last attempt failed, what do you expect me to do?" the girl said, and her voice was full of interest, yet oddly detached. She was much like her mother and father, twisted and dark, but she had a sugary coating, much like a bonbon left too long in the freezer. Occasionally, she would feel an odd pang when she tormented her professor, but it was what _he_ wanted, and she could do no less. A part of her, the last vestige of her sanity, screamed that to disobey him would be her destruction, even if obeying destroyed other parts of her.

"We can leave the bulk of your . . . duty for later, my dear. All you have to do is bring her to me here in Hogsmead. Surely you can manage that?" the hooded figure said, and a terrible smile broke cross his face, the only feature visible to the others in the seedy venue. He reached a smooth hand out and barely caressed her cheek, and she sighed as she leaned into his palm, inhaling his scent. For the first time, it nauseated her. She shivered, and hoped he mistook the shiver for desire. Instead, she moved to the matter at hand.

"Of course. And by the way. . ."

"Yes?"

"It was bloody brilliant of you to use Wood. Everyone expects Slytherin's to be nasty and conniving. But with Wood, now she'll fear even her own House for the Black Water."

"Thank you. Your insight was truly. . . remarkable."

"You're welcome, my heart."

"Always remember who your parents promised you to, Phantasma."

"I will Fuck. I think somebody found me. Leave, now!"

The hooded figure apparated away with a muffled pop while Phantasma Lestrange peered around the room, trying to find the tail. She moved to sit back down, and her stomach revolted. Clutching her hand over her mouth, she gave up and left.

Five minutes after she left, Wally Longbottom stumbled out of the taverna and ran as fast as he could back to Hogwart's, hoping to beat Phantasma and speak to his cousin. He couldn't believe his eyes. Phantasma had been sneaking out of school grounds, meeting with strange men! But more than anything else--

_Hermione was in trouble!_

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**5 reviews happy author next chapter**


	17. WWWD: What Will Wally Do?

**disclaimer: nope, don't own Harry Potter, don't make any money off of the series, and even if I did, would I tell you?**

**this chapter is dedicated to . . . GurlOfTheNight!**

**Sorry these chapters have been shorter than usual, but in order to keep things moving, I have to break a wee bit earlier, or else the endings fall flat. We coming in to the home stretch, though, so keep reviewing, and keep giving me your opinion about marriage and kids, Hermione/ Snape style!**

**Something else to note: I already have this story pretty much finished. I just wait for reviews, nip and tuck the chapters, and post at this point. But I do take into consideration your opinions and ideas, so keep telling me what's on your mind!**

**5 reviews next chapter!**

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**Chapter 17: WWWD: What Will Wally Do?**

"Cousin Neville!" Wally Longbottom finally screeched to a halt when he got inside the greenhouses, slamming the doors shut and casting a silencing charm, one of the few charms he'd been able to manage in his short time at Hogwart's.

"Whoa, Wally," Neville said, floating down to the floor so he could better interact with his cousin. "Where's the fire? Usually you have to be dragged kicking and screaming down to the gardens -- what's happened? Are you alright?"

"_I'm_ fine. But Hermione's going to be in trouble if we don't do something, and soon," Wally wailed, and Neville had to restrain from smacking him one. Instead, he reached out and grabbed his cousin by the shoulders, shaking him gently to get him to speak more slowly. "I was down in the taverna, you know, on the dodgy end of Hogsmead?"

"What were you doing there, Wally? Sneaking down to Hogsmead could get you suspended or expelled. And what's this about Hermione in trouble?" Neville's thoughts we about as coherent as Wally's at that point. Wally was shaking his head, muttering to himself, and Neville resisted the urge to shake his cousin more strongly.

"I was following Phantasma. She keeps on missing our appointments with Tonks, Neville, and I was going to check on her--"

"In another house, in the girls' dorms, which could also get you expelled," Neville pointed out, but his cousin continued.

"But she wasn't anywhere to be found. I was headed down to the lake to see the squid and Hagrid--"

"Without permission. You know, I could expel you now, and what would Gran say?" Neville said, exasperated.

"Stop it, Neville! You sound like Hermione, but you're even worse. Now listen. I saw Phantasma leaving through a gap in the hedge fence a bit off from the main gates. I followed her, and I thought she was going to get some sweets or something, and I could tag along and get her to buy me some in exchange for me not telling."

Neville nodded and rolled his eyes. If only Wally weren't so much like Fred and George, he might have a chance at finishing Hogwart's. **AN: I love Fred and George. That was NOT a slam at them.**

"But she went past the sweet shops, and the Hog's Head, and even the girly stores that Hermione goes into."

Neville didn't even want to contemplate how his cousin knew about that.

"She kept going almost to the end of the town, until she reached the No-Name Taverna. I followed her in by hiding behind some enormously fat woman and her even fatter cat, if you could call something that huge a cat--"

"Wally! What did you see and hear that is pertinent to this story and not getting detention?"

"Sorry. She was meeting with some wizard with strange blonde-brown hair and a nasty smile, wearing some hideous hooded coat that he never removed. He wants her to bring Hermione to Hogsmead so he can grab her, all for himself. Phantasma agreed to it, and she's gonna do it soon! Then he said something about her remembering who her parents promised her to, which makes no sense to me. Then I think I gasped or something, because she was about to say his name and she stopped. I found a better hiding place and she left. I waited until she had been gone a bit before I ran all the way back here, without stopping. What do we do, cousin?"

Neville thought a moment before he grabbed Wally's shoulder and dragged him to a strange door-like opening in the ground. Neville dragged his cousin down the hole and through a long passage, ending up in the basement of the Shrieking Shack. He was shaking in anger and fear and relief. If Wally was really telling the truth, he was lucky to have made it back to Hogwart's. It wasn't as if Neville had that much family still living, and his Gran would kill him _again_ if anything happened to Wally.

"Remus, Tonks! Get down here!" Neville bellowed, and his friends ran downstairs, slightly disheveled. Remus was suffering the effects of the dregs of his Wolfsbane, and Tonks had obviously been trying to help him through it. Neville let Wally give the story, and then he spoke.

"I think we need to keep Wally here, away from Phantasma. She knows he's the only one who would follow her like that. Somebody needs to stay with him, and the others need to go find Hermione and Snape and tell them," Neville said, his hands on his cousin's shoulders. Wally shook his head vigorously, not wanting to be left out, or left in a place where someone could get at him.

"NO! Phantasma told him that she thought she'd been followed -- he could come looking for me, and I can't defend myself. Just ask Hermione! Oh, and one last thing -- Tas was acting really strangely. Like she wasn't talking to him because she wanted to, but because she had to. She was kind of sick, holding her mouth and stomach before she ran back to school," Wally blurted, and Neville clapped his hand against his forehead.

"You should have mentioned this earlier!" Neville howled, and Remus and Tonks shared a look.

"Wally's right. He's the only one who's seen the entire thing, and he can't be left here. Too easy for Phantasma and her friend. But I think I can find out who Hermione's 'admirer' is," Tonks said, and Remus nodded.

"And we'll need his testimony. It sounds almost as if Phantasma's a victim of the black water. Now that I think about it, Phantasma has been acting a bit strangely. I mean, the entire family's always been a bit wonky--"

"Thanks, love," Tonks said dryly, and Remus rolled his eyes, a very Tonks-like thing to do.

"BUT Phantasma is. . . stranger. . . than usual. I met her once when she was quite young, attending something or other held by one of the Blacks, before they knew I was a werewolf," Remus said, ignoring Tonks. Neville nodded, and Wally shook his head.

"It can't be that Tas was doing this on her own. She had to have been controlled by somebody else!" Wally cried, and Tonks quirked an eyebrow, sharing a look with Neville and Remus.

"That's what we've been saying. Have a reason to offer such an opinion, duck?" Tonks said, and Wally blushed.

"What? Anyway, how can we see who she was meeting, or who she's 'promised' to? How?" Wally asked, looking around at the adults around him.

"Phantasma is a pureblooded witch, which means at birth she was betrothed to a wizard. That information will be in her permanent records," Remus said, "which are given to the school upon entrance. All we have to do is check those records, and we'll know who the admirer is."

Tonks and Neville nodded, and Wally smiled.

"D'you think Aunt Hermione forgive me, then?" Wally asked, and Neville looked at him.

"'Aunt Hermione'?" Neville asked, bemused.

"Well, with your parents gone, and you're obviously not getting married, I figure I'll just adopt some of your friends as family."

"Wally!"


	18. What A Tangled Web

**disclaimer: nope, don't own Harry Potter, don't make any money off of the series, and even if I did, would I tell you?**

**this chapter is dedicated to . . . KK Duke! (I think Duke here is trying to get as many chapters dedicated as possible. . . :) )**

**I also want to thank SlySexyDevil for her insight and attention to detail. I am still looking for a beta (my regular beta only reads specific pairings, and HGxSS ain't one of them). Just a note to you all, of course. I'm not begging. . . yet.**

**Sorry these chapters have been shorter than usual, but in order to keep things moving, I have to break a wee bit earlier, or else the endings fall flat. We're coming in to the home stretch, though, so keep reviewing, and keep giving me your opinion about marriage and kids, Hermione/ Snape style!**

**5 reviews next chapter!**

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**Chapter 18: What A Tangled Web**

Hermione and Severus were rather rudely interrupted by someone banging on Severus's door. Actually, there were not one but four someone's on the other side of the door when Hermione opened it, clad in nothing but one of Severus's crisp white shirts (which only hit her mid-thigh) and a dreamy smile. Severus came up behind her presently, wearing hastily donned trousers slung low on his waist, his scars in the open for all to see.

"What are you lot doing here?" Severus asked irritably. He had been engaged in some rather interesting positions when the interruption had come. As a result, he had yet to.

"We've news on Hermione's admirer," Tonks said, and Remus held up a small file. Severus and Hermione moved aside to make room for their visitors.

"It was in Phantasma Lestrange's file the entire time," Remus said, flipping the documents open as he and the rest of his group barged into Severus's sitting room. Hermione ran back into the bedroom to find some underwear and shut the door while Severus cleared off a table.

"Blaise Zabini," Neville said, and everything fell into place. Wally explained about following Phantasma and the plot he overheard while Severus fell deep into thought. His eyes were darker than usual, and his face was white while he clenched and unclenched his fists as he thought.

"But why Zabini?" Hermione wondered aloud, chewing a piece of hair.

"Fourth year. Your dance lesson," Severus said, almost inaudibly. "I rescued you from some unsavory members of my house. Apparently, Zabini has quite the memory."

It all came flooding back to Hermione, and she shook her head. The event still scared her when she thought about it, and she realized that nothing that had happened since the school year began had stemmed from anything other than her dance with Severus, her rescue from the snakes, and a good-night wish. Pushing all that aside and taking a deep breath, Hermione thought a moment before she smiled and spoke.

"We have to finish this, the sooner the better. So here's what we're gonna do. . ."

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Phantasma Lestrange skipped through the halls of Hogwart's, blithely ignoring the stares heading her way. Her mum had been right: when a Black (or Lestrange- Black, like Phantasma) sets out to do something, nothing and no-one can stand in her way. Aunt Narcissa notwithstanding. And how easy this had been!

"Excuse me, Professor Granger?" Phantasma had said, coming into Hermione's study, which was attached to her classroom. She thought about coming back later, when Hermione wasn't so busy, and her stomach clenched of its own volition. "I have a problem, and I don't think I can go to anyone else about it."

"Well, Phantasma, have you gone to your head of House and asked his help?" Hermione had said, not even bringing her eyes up form the paper she was grading. "By the way, you're receiving another O on your latest essay, but you're going to fail if you don't start keeping your appointments with Tonks, you'll flunk for this half of the year."

"Thanks, ma'am. But I really can't go to Professor Snape about this. Trust me, he wouldn't understand. Really," Phantasma said, laying it on thick and giving the older woman her best 'I'm innocent' look. "I don't think he's ever dealt with something like this before."

Hermione finally looked at her student and shook her head. "And the house-elves?"

"They'll talk and someone will find out! Please. I'd go to Tonks if I thought she wouldn't immediately corral me for a spar with Wally. Please. It is just a quick trip into Hogsmead to get what I need, show me where to look for it. And it isn't as if my mum or aunts are around to help me," Phantasma pleaded and Hermione finally nodded.

"We'll go as soon as I finish grading these papers, alright? Let Severus know that you are making an emergency trip into Hogsmead with me. Here, take this note," Hermione jotted something down and passed it to Phantasma, who took it and gave her a relieved smile.

Phantasma skipped out of the room, completely unaware as 'Hermione' shook her head, brown curls rising to reveal short pink locks and oddly mismatched eyes. Nymphadora Tonks flicked her wand and Remus Lupin stepped out of a shadow that hadn't been there before, while Neville Longbottom and _the_ Hermione Granger stepped into the study from her classroom.

"Think old Sevvie-poo will play along correctly when she drops off that note?" Tonks asked, running her fingers through her hair.

"I don't think he has a choice," Remus said, pacing around the room.

"He'll do what he has to do. The entire case is riding on this. Shall we?" Hermione said, and she headed for the study door. Neville floated back through her classroom, and Remus and Tonks followed Hermione. It would all come down to one trip to Hogsmead to find 'girl stuff' for a very deranged little girl.


	19. The Trap is Laid

**disclaimer: nope, don't own Harry Potter, don't make any money off of the series, and even if I did, would I tell you?**

**this chapter is dedicated to . . . gravity01. And yes, Phantasma is only about 11. . . She's mature because she has had a rough life. And I took the idea of the betrothal from history; historically (and sorry, but I'm a historian. . .) wealthy families (read: rich ones) would typically betroth their daughters at a very young age (no, obviously it wasn't universal, but there were times and places in which it occurred). Hope that helps.**

**Sorry these chapters have been shorter than usual, but in order to keep things moving, I have to break a wee bit earlier, or else the endings fall flat. We're coming in to the home stretch, though, so keep reviewing, and keep giving me your opinion about marriage and kids, Hermione/ Snape style!**

**5 reviews next chapter!**

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**Chapter 19: The Trap Is Laid**

Phantasma dropped the note off to Severus Snape and assumed that it was some sort of excuse for Hermione not being around to warm his bed for a while. The entire thing disgusted her; had the woman no self-respect? To turn down one Slytherin for the likes of _Snape_? A traitor and . . . ugh. Phantasma would never allow herself to be the toy of some wizard. That's why she worked so hard to please Blaise, to prove herself to him. So he would treasure her, not treat her like some slave.

During the couple's falling out, Hermione had been a ghost of herself, rarely showing at meals, not visiting her friend at the Ministry, and now that they were back together, she was at the man's beck and call. Phantasma couldn't believe that the woman who'd help bring down Voldemort would subject herself to a relationship where she wasn't in control. Delivering her to Blaise would be rescuing her from Severus Snape.

Phantasma ran back to Hermione's classroom, and a note was tacked on the door: _ Come to the entrance, and we'll leave from there. HG_

She ran to the doors and found Hermione waiting for her. The older woman was wearing one cloak and holding another. She held the cloak out to Phantasma and helped the girl into it, murmuring softly to her. Phantasma felt a spark in her heart, but pushed it away when the nausea hit her; she assumed it was a part of her. . . monthly problem. Hermione whispered a charm and the doors opened. Instructor and student walked through the doors, which closed behind them, and made their way to Hogsmead. Phantasma was completely unaware of the fact that rest of Hermione's motley crew had already made their way to Hogsmead, and was waiting to spring the trap.

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"Phantasma, are there any other questions you have, or do you just need me to show you where to look for these things?" Hermione inquired kindly, and Phantasma almost felt guilty. A wave of nausea hit her, and she shook her head. "Alright, then I have a question for you. I assume this is your first menstrual period?"

Phantasma nodded. It was a bit strange that she was young, and rather coincidental, but she forced herself to see it as felicitous. She looked from Hermione to the town popping up around them. She stayed silent and let Hermione speak instead.

"Why don't you have more questions, then? Is this important to you?"

Phantasma nodded, and looked away. "I am betrothed. This event makes it binding. For a pure-blooded witch, everything hinges on this event. From now on, I can bear children, barring infertility and miscarriages, and that makes me marketable. For that reason I was betrothed at birth, to make sure I would only breed pure-blooded children. Not that that always breeds true, though. The dalliances of my ancestors have been legendary, and Tom Riddle himself was the get of a pure-blood bedding a muggle."

Hermione understood immediately. The old families had strange spells and laws regarding marriage and marriageable age, and for a moment, Hermione wondered if Phantasma was a pawn rather than a player. The child was so mature, so resigned, that she reminded Hermione of herself.

"Did your mother ever speak to you about this?"

"Ma'am, think about how young I was when my mother died. Trust me, the issue never came up. Perhaps I should have asked Tonks. At least she's in some way a relation," Phantasma said dryly, distracted as she looked around the town, searching for her betrothed.

Hermione felt a pang of sorrow for the girl. She'd lost her own parents at the end of the war, but at least she'd had her mum and Molly Weasley when she'd needed advice, and her parents hadn't auctioned her off at birth, the way the pure families did. The circumstances only made Hermione feel a deeper kinship with the girl. Looking up, she smiled.

"Here we are," Hermione said, leading Phantasma into a small shop, _Lady Ana's Apothecary and Dispensary_. "This is the best place to come in a town like this, and as soon as you make the regular Hogsmead trips, you can do your shopping here. Let's go inside and get you settled."

Hermione smiled and the nausea hit Phantasma again as she felt true remorse for the trick. She retched, but nothing came up. Hermione threw her arms around the girl and dragged her into the store as Blaise Zabini apparated in front of them. Phantasma retched harder as she looked up and saw the fury in her betrothed's eyes, the anger and fearful lust distorting his typically aristocratic features.

"Phantasma, you've done very well. Perhaps you deserve a treat later," Zabini said, his mouth curving into a sneer. "And Miss Mudblood herself. Time for that dance he cheated me out of. Shame you won't survive to tell the tale."

Zabini reached out and was preparing to apparate the three of them away when--

"_Expelliarmus_!" Severus Snape's voice came from inside the shop. Tonks and Lupin appeared from other store fronts, and suddenly Zabini was trapped. Wandless, Zabini couldn't even keep Phantasma from spilling her guts.

As nausea wracked her poor body, Phantasma let loose with everything she knew about Zabini and his plans for Hermione, which were so awful that Tonks found herself retching. Phantasma admitted that she'd been helping her fiancée, not because she hated the instructor -- in fact, she held Hermione in high regard-- but because she was wracked with nausea when she so much as thought of not doing as Zabini ordered.

"In the name of the Ministry of Magic, the department of Magical Law Enforcement, and the department of Aurors, I am placing you under arrest. And you won't even be going to trial. Three wizards and witches have witnessed the incriminating evidence. You will be deposed, and then sent directly to Azkaban. As of this moment, you have no rights. You have used unforgivable means in a conspiracy to kidnap and murder a witch. And I want to be there when the Dementors give you a welcome home kiss," Tonks said, manacles shooting out of her wand and landing around Zabini's wrists and ankles.

"Augh!" Phantasma screamed as she finally vomited. Hermione snatched the poor girl out of the vomit, as it burned a hole in the ground. She turned horrified eyes to Severus, who was just as surprised. "What is that? What did he do to me?!"

"He used black water on a child?!" Hermione was screaming. Villagers came running, and Remus advanced on Zabini. The younger wizard just sneered at the werewolf, looking for all the world as if butter wouldn't melt in his mouth. Remus roared, and fear finally crept into Zabini's eyes.

"You are the most despicable thing I have ever laid eyes on," the werewolf said, clenching his hands at his sides. "I could snap you in two."

"But he won't," Tonks said, dragging Zabini to her side. "We're taking you to Azkaban straight away. Hermione, Severus, take Phantasma back to school. She needs rest, and I think Wally will have a fit if he doesn't see for a fact that she's alright. She needs to go to Infirmary; she's been under control of the black water for who knows how long."

With that, Remus and Tonks apparated away, landing at the Ministry to deal with Zabini. Phantasma had passed out once her body ridded itself of the black water, and Severus picked her up in his arms and carried her back to the school with Hermione by his side.

"Anti-climactic, hm?" Hermione said as they made the trek back to Hogwart's. She put a hand on Phantasma's cheek as she looked up into Severus's face, smiling.

"I think I prefer things that way," Severus said, lifting a hand to brush away a stray lock of hair that had fallen across Phantasma's mouth. "This poor child. No parents, and now not even a fiancée."

Hermione turned to look up the hill leading to the entrance of the school. Severus stopped to take a breath before the last leg of the trek, and his line of vision followed Hermione's. Wally was pacing in front of the doors, and Hermione laughed.

"As for the latter, I wouldn't bet on it for long."


	20. Waking Up is Hard to Do

**disclaimer: nope, don't own Harry Potter, don't make any money off of the series, and even if I did, would I tell you?**

**this chapter is dedicated to . . . KK Duke (who I believe now has the record for most dedications)**

**Here we are, the last chapter. Private message me if you want an epilogue and/ or a sequel (neither of which I am ruling out!)**

**Interestingly enough, this is only the second fanfic I've finished. I have quite a few in progress and pre-production at this point, but I am never too busy to go back and do a sequel/ parody/ whatever for my readers. I know this ended kind of quickly, but isn't that what epilogues and sequels are for?**

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**Chapter 20: Waking Up is Hard To Do**

For a straight week, Phantasma laid in a bed in the Hospital wing, with either Wally or Hermione by her side almost twenty-four hours a day. Severus spent a good deal of time there, hiding behind the fact that he was the girl's head of house. Hermione read to the child from muggle books she'd brought with her from her home. Wally told her about classes she'd missed, promising to help her get up to speed as soon as she woke up, if she would only wake up and make fun of him, like she used to. Oliver and Tobin came down to visit her as well, as soon as they arrived back from their wedding, having eloped without even knowing about what had been going on at the school. Remus and Tonks came back to tell her that Zabini would never hurt her again, and that she was free to find her own boyfriend.

"Phantasma, come on, now. You've slept for a week! No-one teases me the way you do. You'll fall out of practice if you keep this up," Wally pleaded late one night. Poppy was shooing him out when Hermione arrived with Severus. "Please, 'Mione, tell her I can stay. I think she's gonna wake up soon, and I don't want to not be here when she does!"

Hermione looked at Severus, who, of course, offered no help. Hermione shook her head at her lover and turned to her student.

"I can't help but feel the same way. Poppy, I have no problem if he stays, if you don't," Hermione said, giving Wally a warm smile. Poppy threw her hands up and let the boy stay.

Hermione took a chair at one side of Phantasma's bed, taking her hand in her own. Wally sat in another chair, and Severus stood behind Hermione.

"We miss you, Phantasma, but if you don't wake up soon, they'll send you to St. Mungo's, and we won't be able to visit you like this. Come on, sweetheart, wake up and we can all forget about what _he_ did to you," Hermione pleaded. "I'll read to you again, if you like, once you wake up, and you're getting ready to go back to class."

Without opening her eyes, Phantasma whispered something. Hermione looked at Wally before she leaned down to Phantasma's face.

"I couldn't hear you, love," Hermione said, trying not to cry. The girl had been a thorn in Hermione's side, but they had so much in common. She wanted to help Phantasma. The girl whispered again Hermione smiled broadly. "That one's called 'Sleeping Beauty'. I understand."

Wally looked from Phantasma to Hermione and back again. "What? What'd she say?"

"Wally, you need to be strong and do something for me, for Phantasma, really. Can you do that for me?"

Wally nodded. Hermione smiled and leaned over the bed, whispering to Wally, whose face turned bright red. Severus smiled to himself, remembering his lover's penchant for fairy tales. Wally nodded and leaned down, brushing first a faint peck, then a chaste kiss across Phantasma's lips. Her arms came up and around his neck, pulling him down for a deeper kiss, and he had to practically fight her off.

"Tas!" Wally shouted, and Phantasma giggled at him. He blushed, and Hermione knew he was well and truly caught.

"Thanks, Lover," Phantasma said, stretching her arms and turning to look at Hermione. "Thanks, Professor."

"Was all I could do," Hermione smiled, wrapping her arms around Phantasma.

Severus leaned down and placed a kiss on Phantasma's head, drawing her attention away from Hermione and Wally. He cleared his throat, and Phantasma gave him her full attention, fearing the retribution for her involvement in Hermione's problems.

"Sir?"

"It has come to my attention that you are now lacking not only betrothal but complete guardianship. What am I to do with you, now, child?" Severus said, a smile playing on his lips. Phantasma was beginning to catch on, and she was more than willing to play along.

"I can stay here, sir. I'll work quite hard, and I promise not to do anything to deserve going to an orphanage," Phantasma said, trying to put fear in her voice. She was actually trying not to laugh, not unlike her head of House. "Please, I don't want to leave Hogwart's, or Wally or-- or Hermione, sir."

"Very well. You leave me no choice. Miss Granger?"

Hermione smiled, knowing what he'd planned all along.

"Yes, Severus?"

"Will you be this girl's guardian, fulfilling the role of friend, confidant, and . . . mother?"

Hermione looked at Phantasma and thought about where the girl had come from, who had birthed her, and their own brief history, and there was only one option. No matter what Ron had said, or how she'd 'let down' the Weasleys in their quest for her as their daughter-in-law, there _was_ only one option.

"Yes."

Phantasma looked at Hermione and couldn't believe what she was hearing. She shook her head and turned to Wally, who was nodding. She squealed in delight, and Hermione threw her arms around her new 'daughter'. Phantasma pretended to gag, and Wally laughed while Hermione finally released Phantasma.

"I think she's grown attached to you, love," Wally said in a bad stage whisper.

"Eew. But it wouldn't be too bad, except that last name screams 'Look at me, adopted by a muggle!' What do you think, Severus _Snape_?" Phantasma said, and Severus sighed and nodded his head. Hermione looked from her lover to her daughter, and had to fight back the tears she felt burning behind her eyelids. She couldn't believe what she was hearing! _Damned purebloods and their fucking names! _And to have Severus agreeing with Phantasma!

"Yes, I am afraid that people would look at you oddly, my dear child, and I find that I myself have grown attached to you this past term. Perhaps we could share guardianship?" he asked, and Phantasma looked thoughtful with Wally while Hermione watched. Phantasma shook her head. "Ah, yes, it wouldn't do for you to look illegitimate, either, would it? You are probably the most honorable Black or Lestrange in decades, wouldn't want to betray that. Perhaps I should adopt you?"

Phantasma gave him a mock-sad look and a great sigh.

"I fear that leaves us one last resort, my child. We shall both have to be adopted by my Miss Granger."

"But the name!"

"Insightful you are, aren't you? Very well, I shall adopt the both of you!"

Phantasma gave him a droll stare.

"No? What do you _propose_?"

Wally and Phantasma shared a look before giving Severus a baleful glare.

"I understand," Severus said, and he kneeled down in front of Hermione, taking her small hands in his large ones. A smile and a frown battled on her face. She definitely should have seen this one coming.

"I fear that the children have decided your fate, my love, and that is for you to be unequivocally and forever mine, through the bonds of marriage. Agreeable, my dear?" Severus said, and Hermione couldn't stand it anymore. She cracked up, laughing so hard tears came down. "Would that be a yes? Because this definitely isn't how I pictured this happening."

"If you can present me with a ring that I deem appropriate, then it is a yes. If not, you'll have to try harder next time," Hermione laughed. "And my, nothing seems to garner the reaction you expect, does it?"

Severus sighed and made a face, slipping a hand into his robes and producing a small velvet box. "Clichés are us, my dear, but if I had thought this would saddle me with you. . ."

He snapped the box open, revealing a modest, round-cut ruby set in white gold. Tiny yellow diamonds flanked the jewel, and Hermione looked from the ring to his eyes before putting her hand out so he could slip the ring onto her finger. As Phantasma and Wally looked on, Hermione sealed her own engagement with a kiss.

"Finally!" came Minerva MacGonagall's voice came from the corner, and the four looked up at her. She had the grace to blush before she bustled out of the hospital wing.

The kiss broke and Hermione and Severus turned their attention back to Phantasma and Wally.

"We'll be the best family you could ask for, darling," Hermione said, and Phantasma felt tears begin to well.

"And I'll be your worst nightmare if you hurt my daughter," Severus said blithely to Wally, who swallowed hard.

"That's all well and good, but can I be the maid of honor, too?"

The four talked long into the night, discussing when the paperwork would be settled, and where Phantasma and Hermione would live, when Wally could visit when school was out, and other sundry things that families have to sort out before they can be families. By the time the sun was rising, Hermione and Severus were tucking Phantasma and Wally into separate yet close beds. Even in sleep, they were holding hands. Hermione laid a gentle kiss on her daughter's -- _her daughter's!_-- brow and patted Wally's cheek before Severus led her out of the infirmary and down to his quarters for a bit of rest before the day began.

"Severus, I can't believe how all this happened, and so quickly. And to think, this entire thing, well--" Hermione said, but Severus caught her mouth in a searing kiss before she could finish her sentence.

"Yes, my dear. It started with a dance."


End file.
